Obsession
by T'Pring
Summary: Serving under the famous Lt. Col. John Sheppard isn't quite what new recruit, Alex Weiss, is expecting. When John takes a team of Marines to a boring little island  in the middle of a typhoon  things get really interesting.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This fic was written for the Sheppard H/C Secret Santa Exchange and is also over at my LJ. Story takes place between Season 2 episode "Critical Mass" and Season 3's "Phantoms". Episodes in this timeframe are heavily referenced. An excuse for "research", no? Enjoy! Story is complete, will be posted in entirety over the next day or two.

Atlantis, 1yr 6mo

(_just before Critical Mass)_

"Welcome to Atlantis. No time to stand around. You'll get plenty of that when you're babysitting a doorjam. Line up by the ramp and grab the bag that's handed to you. No, it won't be your own bag. Doesn't matter. Grab and go. A tag with a room and bunk number was added to every bag on the trip through the void. Take whatever bag you get. You'll receive instructions on where to put them next. You frostbites smart enough to figure all that out?"

"Yes, sir!" shouted Cpl Alex Weiss along with the rest of the crowd of new recruits. The usually intimidating bellow of about 40 voices was swallowed up by the vast emptiness of almost 360 degrees of ocean view and the constant white noise of water shushing against Atlantis' East pier. The impressive bulk of the Daedalus squatted over the landing pad like an enormous bird of prey, throwing the storage bay ramps and most of the pier into shadow.

Alex followed the herd towards the spot where their "cruise director"—the Lieutenant in charge of new blood during the trip to Pegasus—was bellowing them towards the piles of duffle bags that were appearing out of the cavernous Daedalus storage holds. Daedalus crew were lugging bags, crates and pallet after pallet of supplies to the doors. Teams of Atlantis personnel, military and civilian alike, took the goods off the ramps and piled them into storage bunkers that lined the pier.

"Hey, Case. Think we'll be moving this crap into the city for the rest of the week?" Alex said throwing an elbow into the side of the guy standing in line next to him. They'd been bunkmates for the trip. Case seemed to know everything about Atlantis already, even though he was as newbie as the rest of them. He _acted_ like he knew everything, anyway.

"_You_ will, probably," Case replied with a grin. "I'm going for 'gate team."

"You're full of shit. They won't let you offworld for a month, at least. Hutch heard that Sheppard runs the toughest orientation in the whole stargate program."

"Yeah. I heard that, too. I heard Sheppard takes orientation teams out himself."

"Whoever told you that is full of shit, too. No Colonel is going to babysit a bunch of frostbites on a training run."

Case stiffened and Alex snickered privately. It hadn't taken him long to figure out that the easiest way to push Case's buttons was to say anything that contradicted _his_ impression of their new CO.

"Sheppard's unlike any other Colonel at the SGC. It wouldn't surprise me if he personally evaluates every offworld candidate. I'll be ready when he does."

"Ready to pucker up and start sucking," Alex muttered, low enough so Case wouldn't hear, but he was grinning.

"Quit your rubbernecking. Get your asses moving!" The cruise director continued to bellow.

Case and Alex moved slowly to the front of the line, then heaved straps over their shoulders when a Daedalus troll tossed them each a couple of bags. The group then milled together into a clump, waiting for the order to go somewhere else. They _were_ rubbernecking, all of them.

"I bet they're letting us hang around, just to take in the view," Alex said to Case, finding that today's 'hurry up and wait' wasn't nearly as boring as usual. In addition to the unsettling view of endless ocean in every direction, the cluster of central city buildings rose in hazy spires at the end of the pier. It was late morning and blue-sky clear. Panes of glass on the central tower flashed with reflected sunlight in blinding flickers.

On the pier itself, the bustle and murmur of voices reminded Alex of a middle-eastern bazaar. Everyone was going somewhere, doing something and carrying stuff as they did it. A crate with very large warning signs and scary symbols painted on the sides rumbled by on a trolley pushed by four Atlantis military technicians. The box was trailed by a twitchy looking civilian with frizzy hair and wire-rimmed glasses.

"They brought some serious shit this trip," Alex commented, with another jab at Case to point out the crate.

"We've only been in contact with Atlantis for six months. The SGC is still stocking it with supplies and personnel." He slapped Alex's back. "You're part of that stock, jarhead."

"Lucky us."

"We are lucky. I put my request in months ago to serve under Colonel Sheppard."

"I heard the top brass wanted to replace him after they re-instated contact with the SGC."

Alex was expecting Case to get all pissy again, but instead he just got more excited. "Colonel Caldwell went to bat for him. I heard that Everett and Caldwell were so impressed with Sheppard's command during the siege of Atlantis that they recommended promotion on the spot but Sheppard had to wait until the brass at the SGC were convinced. That's why Sheppard and Weir and the rest went to Earth. Did I tell you I got to meet Sheppard that month they were home last year?"

"Only about a hundred times."

"He's a very casual guy. Drives the top brass crazy, but that's why he's so good out here. He's a rogue. Not afraid to bend the rules, find creative solutions. Just last month he took out-"

"Two hive ships by himself in a single dart. Jesus, Case. Hang a rosary and start praying to the guy why don't you." Alex's spotted a trio of men overseeing the organized chaos, "Or go say, hi. Sheppard's right over there." His pulse raced a little faster in excitement of his own, despite his joshing.

Case immediately stood on tiptoes and jostled shoulders until he could see the Colonel, too. Sheppard was standing between a guy Alex thought was probably Major Lorne and another man who could only be Ronon. Rumors were that Sheppard kept the wild native on a tight leash and that the warrior Satedan followed Sheppard around everywhere.

The other frostbites also started craning their necks to see. Alex heard Sheppard's name buzzing up and down the line. Apparently Case wasn't the only one who had a healthy dose of respect going for the Atlantis Colonel. Alex admired the guy, too - admired the rumors, at least - but in the same way he reserved for anyone who had stayed alive doing the job as long as Sheppard. (And who had the misfortune of not being a Marine).

"Ooo, he's shorter than I thought he'd be," someone called out in a mocking falsetto and the line chortled self consciously.

"Yeah, but I heard he can kill Wraith with his eyes," someone else added, playing along. Everyone guffawed except Case who had his disapproving scowl back on. Case probably believed Sheppard could kill with his eyes, Alex thought with another private snicker. There was more conversation on the topic, generally discussing those rumors that had already been hashed to death.

"Jesus, people. I'm sure Sheppard pisses standing up just like the rest of us," came another mutter from behind them in the huddle. Alex and Case turned to see a zoomie Tech Sergeant rolling his eyes. Alex hadn't hung out with him any. The scoffer lowered his voice, but Alex and Case could still hear him when he said, "And he'll have to watch his ass now that the SGC is on top of things again. The top brass don't think Sheppard's experienced enough to cut it out here. They say he's just gotten lucky, so far. Caldwell wants his job so bad he can taste it."

Case had gone stiff as a statue and Alex thought for a second he might actually walk over and deck the guy. Alex thought he was just mouthing off to look important - and that he might actually know more, being higher up the zoomie chain of command. He was saved from having to stop a fight by the cruise director's bellow.

"Move out, recruits! Follow the pier to the East doors. Take the Eastern highway to the control tower. In-processing is on level three of the barracks section. Now's when we find out if you studied those maps like I told you to!"

The group settled down and bumped elbows until they spread out into a long line of twos and threes. Alex stayed with Case for no reason except he was the only guy Alex had spent any time with, so far. Case was stalling. By the way he was staring, he was still dying to get a good look at the Colonel when they walked by. A few recruits shoved past with annoyed chuffs. A moment later, they were right in front of Sheppard when Case took a subtle step to the side, stuck out his foot and hooked his heel into the next guy passing them.

From anywhere else, it would have looked like a total accident, but Alex had caught Case's calculated glance over his shoulder as he stepped. The TSgt who had mouthed off about Sheppard dropped to the deck like a sack of potatoes. The bags he was carrying swung as he fell and threw him off-balance and he landed, hard, on his left arm.

The guy yelped and made some awful faces when he sat up, holding his arm tight against his chest.

"Jesus, Case!" Alex hissed and dashed over to help the Tech Sergeant untangle the bags and get him back up on his feet. His buddies were hovering around, looking like dumbasses who didn't know what to do. The line of new recruits stalled.

The commotion drew the attention of Sheppard, and the next thing Alex knew, the Colonel himself was jogging over, trailing Lorne and Ronon.

"Lorne, go pull Walker off crate duty," Sheppard was saying as he drew close. Alex had just heaved the TSgt to his feet, but was keeping an arm around his waist because the guy didn't seem too steady. His face was flushed and it was pretty clear he was hurting.

Alex couldn't exactly salute the Colonel like he thought he should with his hands on the TSgt, so he sort of jerked his head up and down and bellowed, "_Sir!_"

Sheppard waved off the formality with a flap of his hand. "As you were, Corporal. You need some help, Sergeant?" he asked, striking a concerned pose. He sounded matter-of-fact, but kind. This Colonel wasn't the type that chewed you out for clumsiness, at least.

"Yes, sir. I think I broke my arm, sir," the TSgt managed.

Another sergeant jogged up, dressed in Atlantis BDUs that were soaked with sweat around the neck and pits. "You asked for me, Colonel?"

"Yeah, Corpsman Walker, would you check out the sergeant's arm and help him get to the infirmary?"

"Sure thing, sir. Where does it hurt?" Walker asked and Alex was able to let go when the corpsman took his place at the TSgt's side and started to pull him towards a nearby crate where he could sit for a minute.

The crowd around them started to break up and the new recruits turned back towards their temporarily forgotten destination. Sheppard spent another second watching the medic, as if to make sure they were good on their own, then turned his attention back to Ronon and his own concerns.

Alex was heaving the TSgt's bags over his shoulder with his own when Case stepped into Sheppard's path and offered him a salute, that Sheppard returned, then stuck out his hand.

"Sgt. Andrew Case. Just arrived on the Daedalus. Can I say it's an honor to serve under your command, sir?"

Alex snapped his head up. "I can't believe that brown nose!" he muttered furiously to himself. He just almost called Case out. He'd seen him trip the TSgt and the guy had gotten hurt, bad. No one else had seen it the way Alex had. But it would be his word against Case's and Case outranked him by a grade. Case was ambitious, too. Crossing him now could really be a bad move in the future when teams were being formed.

Sheppard took Case's handshake and gave a slight nod of approval. "Welcome to Atlantis, Sergeant," he said, then turned and walked towards the far side of the loading zone with the stride of someone who knew he had work to do and where it needed to be done. Alex held his tongue.

"Did you see how the Colonel knew the corpsman by name?" Case gushed when he'd fallen back in beside Alex. Alex ignored him, pissed.

"And how Sheppard came over to personally check on the situation? The man is not afraid to put his time in. I hear he's offworld as much as he's on base. He's the most talented field officer you or I will ever have."

Alex just concentrated on lugging his double load of bags. Case was a piece of work, but it was a small, isolated post. He'd have to get along with the guy, whether he liked him or not.

He just hoped he didn't have to share a room.

* * *

Atlantis, 1yr 8mo

(_just after The Long Goodbye)_

"Dismissed! Go get some lunch, guys. Final training-assessment schedules will go up this afternoon. Sorry they're late. Had to entertain some last minute company...in my head."

There was a rumble of amusement and then the sudden screech of chairs being scooted as the hundred or so guys occupying the duty room stood and stretched. John remained on the edge of his desk, trying not to look as tired as he felt. Thalen had done a number on him, physically as well as mentally. He was still sore from chasing Phoebus all over Atlantis and his arm throbbed from the bullet Rodney had nicked him with.

Carson had told him to take a few days off, but he needed to get back in front of his command. He needed them to see he was himself again and - more importantly - on top of things. He, Lorne, and a still recovering Ronon had spent the last two days writing protocol and creating a set of codes for handling a situation like they'd just survived. The briefing he'd just concluded was the second of the day; he'd gotten all the officers up to speed before breakfast.

Lorne wandered over, took an appraising look at John's sagging shoulders and clucked his tongue.

"I told you we could handle the briefings. You don't always have to run these yourself, sir. That's the beauty of a _chain_ of command."

"I know," John replied, stifling a yawn. "But this time, I had to do it."

Lorne rolled his eyes. "Don't worry, sir. If Beckett says you're you, I believe it. And if I believe it, these guys believe it, too. Whether they want to or not."

"That's reassuring...I think." John grinned and then was distracted by a man hovering behind Lorne, looking halfway like he wanted to interrupt and half like he was trying not to. "What can I do for you, Sergeant?"

The kid immediately stopped skulking and put on a formal, but overly hearty, smile. "Just wanted to say I'm glad you're back on your feet, sir. And to express my congratulations on defeating the enemy, Thalen."

"Thanks. But it was a team effort, Sergeant. Teyla deserves most of the credit."

"Hey!" Lorne protested, but he was smirking.

"And I suppose Lorne helped out a little, too."

"Nice of you to say so," Lorne pretended to grouse and John laughed. The Sergeant just looked back and forth between them, looking slightly puzzled.

_Ok, so no sense of humor, here_, John thought. "Anything else, Sergeant...?"

"Case, sir. Andrew Case."

"Anything else, Case?"

"No, sir. I just look forward to working again with you."

"Again?" John was feeling a bit behind. He didn't know this kid at all. The name rang a bell but he was pretty sure he was one of the newer relief forces from the Daedauls' last run. They had only just finished their training exercises and John hadn't run any ops with any of them yet, although they'd be spreading their wings soon.

"I was on Lorne's search team when you were recovered...?"

"Oh." John used every ounce of control not to laugh. Lorne wasn't helping. John ignored him making screwy faces just out of Case's line of sight. "I was a little busy being possessed and unconscious at the time, but...thanks for the backup."

"My pleasure, sir!"

Case's smile seemed a little exaggerated, but he turned smartly and left the duty room with the last of the crowd.

Lorne waited until he'd gone out the door then snorted. "I bust my chops chasing your sorry ass all over the city and the kid gives _you_ the dreamy eye!" he pouted with mock disgust. "And you were worried they'd lose respect for you? _Sir_."

"I think the sergeant recognizes superior leadership when he sees it. He'll do well here," John deadpanned. Lorne glared for a beat, then they both busted up.

"Superior at getting into trouble."

"You're right about that." John stretched and then groaned as the motion tweaked his arm again.

"Will you go get some rest, now, sir?"

"_That_ is an excellent idea, Major."

"At least someone appreciates me."

John slapped Lorne on the shoulder as he sauntered past, relishing the thought of a few minutes of vertical in his bunk. "And don't forget it."

* * *

Atlantis, 1yr 9 mo

(_just after Coup D'etat)_

The ready room exploded with cheers, hoots and applause when Walker and Jones were shoved through the door by a triumphant combat team consisting of Case, Mickey, Hutch and three or four other guys from the 36 squad.

"Dude, we thought you were dead," Alex Weiss shouted over the din from where he was changing by his locker. He was just coming off duty and was thrilled he happened to be there when the group returned. Walker swatted away the hands that kept slapping his back, looking exhausted but happy.

"Major Lorne ok?" someone else called and Walker nodded.

"Yeah, he's changing in the officer's ready room. That guy, Ladon, took us hostage and faked our deaths. Least, that's what the Colonel told us when he showed up in the slammer, too. Ladon turned on Cowen and let us go. From what little I overheard on the gate room floor just now, Ladon had some big scheme all along. The Genii are under a coup as we speak." Walker collapsed on the bench beside his locker and started to tug wearily at his shoes.

Alex gave Hutch and Mickey high-fives, happy they'd made it back, too, then hurried to finish changing. If he was reading the signs right, there was a hell of a party gearing up. His friends had been on the Colonel's strike force, looking to recover a ZPM from the Genii, last anyone around here had heard. Alex had been worried about them all day.

"Did you get the ZPM?" Alex asked Case whose locker was right next to his. Damned if the people upstairs didn't keep them bumping shoulders. Case hadn't made gate team, but he'd proven himself bloodthirsty enough to get picked for offworld combat offensives. Alex was still pulling guard duty, but looked forward to his promotion in a month for the chance to join the rest of his squad on more exciting jobs.

"Nah," Case was vibrating with pent-up, post-mission energy. He rattled the latch on his locker, up and down, a bunch of times before slamming the door open. His body language looked manic - Alex gave him a bit more room in front of the lockers - but he was grinning like a fool. "The ZPM was a fake. It was a trap, like Walker said. But the Colonel pulled it off. He talked that Genii, Ladon, into turning on Cowen, against his own commander, and got our asses out of there."

"Cool," Alex replied, noncommittaly. Case had a habit of exaggerating missions - especially his own or Sheppard's part in them. He'd wait to get the real story from Mickey.

Case stripped his sweaty t-shirt off, revealing bulky muscles that the man had put on since his tour on Atlantis started. The guy worked out constantly, he was as nuts about being in shape as he was about Sheppard. Alex wouldn't spar with the guy for nothing.

"Fuckin' cool," Case agreed and did a little victory shuffle before slamming the shirt into the bottom of his locker. "I thought we were toast when the fuckers gassed us. Was sure we'd wake up dead. You have no idea what an ice machine Sheppard is. Nothin' rattles the man. He came back from the Genii interrogation under double guard like he'd been for a stroll in the park. And then he manages to walk us out without firing another shot. Unbelievable!"

"You got that right," Alex muttered. "Sounds like a hell of an op."

"He's amazing," Case kept saying, almost talking to himself while Alex finished changing. "He's a brilliant commander. We're lucky. Damn lucky, I tell you. If Weir ever cut his strings loose, we'd clear out the Wraith within a month. He just needs the chance. You just wait. You'll see. One day we'll stop dicking around with the Genii and Sheppard will destroy those bastard Wraith once and for all..."

* * *

Atlantis, 1yr 11 mo

(_right after Inferno, just before Allies)_

John shook hands with Chancellor Lycus then walked slowly towards the active Stargate where his team and a couple of Marines were waiting for him. He was edgy, ready to go home, but he forced himself to complete the pleasantries. The Taranians had given them the Orion after all, and it was their best hope against the approaching Hive.

"We are grateful for all the help Atlantis has provided to our people. Both on Taranis and here on our new world," Lycus said.

"Just stay in touch. Let us know how you're doing," John replied, sincerely. "We have to go now and...work out some of our own problems, but hopefully things will be back to normal soon." John hoped he didn't sound as pessimistic as he felt.

"We look forward to a long and fruitful alliance with your people. Perhaps someday we'll be able to repay you for all your kindnesses."

"Letting us use the Orion is a pretty big payment. We thank _you_ for that."

"Well, you have proven your ability to make use of the Ancestors' technology. In the end, that can only benefit the entire galaxy in the fight against the Wraith."

John fidgeted. "I hope you're right," was all he could think to say.

The Chancellor stepped back to stand by the DHD and John nodded to Ronon who dove into the event horizon first, followed immediately by Rodney and Teyla. His team, and Rodney especially, was just as anxious to return to Atlantis and prepare for the fight to come. The Marines stiffened to attention at his approach then followed him through the gate.

Rodney and Teyla were already in the control room by the time John had made it off the platform and he found himself walking towards the ready rooms with Ronon and the Marines.

"Any trouble at the gate, Sergeant?" he asked the closest Marine, just for something to say. The kid was walking at his shoulder like they were strolling together towards their favorite bar.

"None, sir. Pretty planet. The Taranians have a nice place to resettle. Do you think we'll end up moving Atlantis to another planet ourselves?"

"I have no idea. I hope not," John said and left it at that. He wasn't feeling particularly chatty. His thoughts kept drifting to the preparations they were undertaking.

"Me, too. Bring the bastards on. Let them come. Hell, I'd love it if they sent the whole damn fleet. Give us a chance to pick them off, one by one. Get rid of all of them."

"Personally, I'd rather they didn't come. We're not equipped to take on the whole fleet. The _Ancients_ weren't equipped to take on the whole Wraith fleet. Remember that, Sergeant. Never forget that we're outnumbered and out gunned." He let a bit of the testiness he was feeling creep into his voice.

"Sure, but-"

"No _buts_, Sergeant..." John flicked a glance at the man's nametag, "Case. We're not getting out of this with brute force."

"Yes, sir."

They walked a bit further in an awkward silence. The kid was looking embarrassed and a bit put off at being corrected for his enthusiasm, but John didn't regret his words. There was nothing worse than strategy built on false bravado and the kid needed to learn that now. Before he got himself or his colleagues killed. Ronon also seemed pissed all of a sudden. Great.

"What?" John snapped as the frost radiating from Ronon's side of the hallway got annoying.

"I don't like hiding and playing dead," Ronon replied succinctly. John rolled his eyes.

"Look, you weren't here the last time the Wraith had us under siege. We only made it out of that scrape with a scam and a whole damn lot of luck. We've got more going for us this time, and if we get the chance, we'll take out the Hive. But I'm not going to start a fight I can't finish, not if there's a chance they'll just go away."

Ronon grunted, not exactly with agreement, but at least with mutual understanding. They still butted heads now and then, especially since the whole Michael thing had gone to hell. Some of the coldness, John thought, was Ronon's way of saying "I told you so."

"You'll get your chance, big guy. There will be lots of opportunities to kill Wraith."

"I look forward to it, sir. When _you_ give the word, we'll be ready. I trust your judgment completely," blurted the eager Sergeant with a scowl at Ronon - as if he hadn't just been the one corrected. John forced himself not to roll his eyes. He remembered this guy, now - Mr. Appreciation...to use the polite term.

"Just don't try to stop me if they enter the city," Ronon growled, trying for fierce. John chuckled.

"I hear ya. But just to keep up the _appearance_ that I'm in command, I'd appreciate it if you waited for my word. Like the good sergeant, here." He spoke the words with a heavy dollop of sarcasm, knowing Ronon would get the point. John had no doubts about Ronon's loyalty - or his ability to take orders. He did, however, feel the need to remind the man that he was in front of subordinates. And - case in point - the sergeant was glaring daggers at Ronon, no doubt out of loyalty to his commander.

Ronon also chortled. "Whatever you say, Sheppard." Which was as good as John was going to get. Sometimes, he wished Ronon wasn't quite so _himself._

They reached the ready rooms and John shooed the two sergeants through the first door and then got waylaid by an anxious Lorne before he made it to the officer's ready room. An hour later, still shadowed by Ronon, John finally made it to his locker and began to peel off his tactical vest and by-now-sweat-soaked t-shirt. Ronon rustled at his own locker two slots down, then grunted in surprise once he'd flung the door open.

"What?" John asked from inside a fresh shirt.

"Someone trashed my stuff."

John yanked the shirt down and stepped over to look. The few clothes and toiletries that Ronon kept in his locker were dumped, wadded, spilled, and – upon closer inspection – slashed.

"What the hell!" John was furious. Ronon just shrugged and began to clean up the mess.

"I guess someone doesn't like me." He gave John a mischievous look, which didn't soothe any of John's anger, but alleviated the fear that Ronon would take offense.

"That _someone_ is an idiot," John growled. "I'll put the word out that this is unacceptable. If we find the guy, there'll be hell to pay."

"Save it for the wraith, Sheppard."

"Right."

The wraith. The hive barreling towards them, due to arrive within the day. He looked at Ronon mopping up spilled shampoo with his spare shirt. Because there wasn't enough to worry about. He hurried to finish changing, knowing that Elizabeth and Lorne were waiting on him to go over final preparations.

Some days, he really just didn't get paid enough.

* * *

Atlantis, 2yrs 1 mo

(_Just after Misbegotten)_

Alex slouched into the rec room, beat down, but not ready to crash in his bunk yet. Most of his squad seemed to have the same idea and Alex headed to the table of guys plus Jensen - the only woman in their squad, although there were others on base. The rest of the base seemed to be blowing off steam. All the ping pong tables were full, and there was a crowd around the pool table where Walker was hustling a couple zoomies for money again. The group at the corner table was subdued, though.

Alex pulled up a chair and put his water bottle down on the table to join the crowd of bowed heads and distant expressions. Hutch was rubbing his eyes like he was tired and Jensen kept twisting her hair. Case was sitting opposite and was doing this weird thing where he unscrewed and rescrewed his bottle cap off and on three times before he took a drink.

"Hey," Alex mumbled in greeting. There were nods, but nobody spoke. "I, uh...I volunteered to pack up Mickey's stuff. They're taking him and the rest of Morrison's team back when the Daedalus leaves for Earth."

"I'll help. Just let me know when," Hutch said with a slap at his arm. His voice was sad, resigned, and the rest fidgeted a bit, offering the same with a look or a nod.

"Thanks, man." More silence passed, but it was comfortable.

"Not that there's anything to take back," Case finally growled and shoved himself back in his seat. Alex blinked at the venom in his voice and felt a flush of annoyance. They were trying to grieve, here.

"You know what I mean. Their stuff and medals and shit. You're not pissed they didn't get the bodies are you? 'Cause I read the report. Sheppard nuked that freaky wraith camp from space to keep them all from flying the coop. Lt. Morrison and Mickey - they were already dead."

"No, I'm not mad they didn't bring them back. _Sheppard_ did everything he could. I heard he barely got his own team out."

"Then why so pissy?" Alex immediately regretted the question, but Case was constantly rubbing his wrong these days. Ever since he'd been on the mission with Sheppard to Cowen's Genii lair, the man's arrogance had become nearly unbearable. Alex was just out of sorts enough to call him on it.

Case leaned forward and lowered his voice, although it was no less harsh.

"If Weir had listened to Sheppard in the first place, we would have pulled the plug on the freaky things in the Hive and jettisoned them out the garbage chute. We could have kept the Hive and Morrison wouldn't have been left alone in that death camp. Sheppard _never_ supported Weir in building out that creepy colony. And the goddamn Wraith sucked Mickey to dust because of it. _That's_ what I'm pissed about."

"You don't _know_ any of that, Case. You're just pulling that out of your ass. The whole thing could have been Sheppard's idea for all we know."

Case wasn't going to let it go. His heel thumped under table and he kept twisting his bottle cap off and on, off and on. "I _know_ Sheppard. Sheppard went after the hive single-handedly when it headed towards Earth. Sheppard damaged them in the void and delayed them long enough for the Daedalus to finish them off. He never would have let _this_ happen if he hadn't been overruled."

The other guys at the table were squirming as the conversation got dangerously close to an argument…and politics. Alex was feeling cranky enough to go at Case, but the other guys, they didn't need this right now. He held his breath and counted to ten before he spoke again, as calmly as he could muster.

"Look, Case, I'm just saying - you weren't there. I don't think you should be speaking on behalf of the Colonel, just because it's what you want him to think. 'Ours is not to reason why' - and all that crap. Ours is to mourn our dead and do as we're told. Let's keep perspective."

"My _perspective_ is that Mickey is _dead_ because of those blood-sucking bastard wraith." Case's words were almost a growl of rage.

"Hear, hear! Fuck the wraith!" Hutch exclaimed suddenly, and the rest of the table raised their bottles. Alex threw him a look of gratitude. Hating the wraith was something they could all agree upon. He glared at Case until the guy looked away, finally dropping it. Alex raised his water bottle once more.

"To Morrie and Mickey. May they raise some hell and kick some Wraith butt in the afterlife."

"Hell, yeah!" the rest chorused.

Alex finally headed back to his bunk, drunk on bottled water and some therapeutic reminiscing. Case had bailed shortly after the toasts, to his relief. It was late and he was on early shift in the morning, but he was glad he'd gone to hang out. He'd be able to face Mickey's room, tomorrow, a little bit more prepared. He was just about to swipe the bar to his own room when Case appeared like a phantom around the corner. Alex jumped.

"Jesus, Case. Cough or something the next time you're skulking around the halls. Scared the pee out of me, and believe me, I gotta go."

Case got in his face, cold fury in his eyes. A prickle of alarm raised the hair on the back of Alex's neck.

"If I ever hear you accuse the Colonel of collaborating with the Wraith again, I will kill you," Case spat.

Alex stared, then laughed out loud. He couldn't help it. "What the hell are you talking about, Case? I never said no such thing."

"I know what I heard."

"You've gone off the deep end, man."

"Just remember. I'm watching you. You've never respected the Colonel. And I don't like traitors." Case shoved Alex in the chest and stalked off. Alex watched him go, heart pounding and stiff with anger.

"What the hell was that about?"

He was still breathing hard when he flopped into his bunk. Both of his roommates were already out, so he didn't turn on his light. He stared into the black ceiling over him. Case didn't scare him - he was all talk. But was slipping from annoying into creepy.

"He's messed up about Mickey," Alex whispered to himself, eventually satisfied by his logic. Case had been as close to Sgt. Michael Keys as the rest of them. Mickey was – had been – just that kind of a guy; he got along with everyone. Even the obnoxious Case. "He'll snap out of it." Alex closed his eyes. "He'd better."

* * *

Atlantis, 2yrs 4 mo

(_Common Ground)_

Ronon solemnly turned his gun around and offered it, butt first, to John. There was glee in his eyes. Ronon was looking forward to John's revenge. Revenge for what "they'd all seen", Beckett had said. But they hadn't seen it all. John took the weapon. Aimed it at the Wraith. Fired. It seized and crumpled to the ground.

Ronon snatched his gun back, checked the settings. "You didn't kill it!" Ronon's look was all fury and confusion. One of the Marines covering the Wraith twitched, the kid's face as furious as Ronon's.

"No. I didn't. Get him in the jumper. We're gonna drop him off somewhere."

John kept his face stern, but he felt his heart racing when the Marines, at least, followed his order and began to heave at the Wraith. Most of the Marines. The angry kid stood as frozen as the rest of his friends. Staring at him. They were all staring at him. The instinct to flee took hold. John threw his shoulders back and walked past Rodney and a very confused Teyla and Beckett.

"Thanks for showing up," he shot at Rodney, then smiled privately when he started to splutter. It was a low blow, but it worked. A few more snarky quips and maybe everyone would back off.

Half an hour later, he slipped back into the jumper's cloak and collapsed on the back bunk, leaving the Wraith behind for the darts to find. Rodney closed the hatch and lurched the jumper towards the active stargate without a command to do so, and that suited John fine.

All remnants of the high he'd felt after the Wraith's shocking "gift" had vanished. He was running on fumes. He scrubbed his face and left his head in his hands to keep them from shaking. Rodney was piloting and the rest of his team sat around him in silence. They were still staring, but John felt the attention shifting from shock and sympathy to concern. He could handle concern. It was sympathy he hated. Sympathy implied understanding. He didn't understand most of it himself.

"How could you do that, sir?"

The question was soft, indignant, strangled. There was rustling as his team and the Marines shifted at the awkward moment. John lifted his head, found the face asking the question. It was the angry Sergeant, the one who had seemed so shocked when John spared the wraith on Kolya's planet. He recognized the kid, but couldn't pull up a name in his current state.

"Do what, Sergeant?"

"How could you let that _thing_ go? After what it did to you. After what the Wraith did to the Daedalus, to Morrison's team, three months ago?"

"I don't have to explain myself, Sergeant." John put his head back in his hands. On another day, he would have explained. Right now, he wasn't even sure he could stay upright.

"It _fed_ on you!"

"Shut up, Case," another Marine hissed.

"It's the enemy. You let it go. You led it straight back to its own kind!"

"That Wraith is no threat to us. It had been held by the Genii for years. It doesn't know a damn thing and I think I just said it's none of your damn business, _Sergeant_," John snapped.

The angry sergeant opened his mouth, hesitated long enough for his companion to dig a ferocious elbow into his side, then snapped his trap shut. The kid looked away to glare at the storage netting above John's head. John threw a meaningful look at Ronon, then slumped over to prop his elbows on his knees. He shouldn't have done that. Snapping at the kid was only going to make him confused _and_ pissed. But at the same time, John was a little past caring right at that moment.

"Colonel," Beckett whispered, "are you sure you're feeling yourself?"

"I'm tired, doc!" John snapped again. Damn. He had no control at the moment.

"Aye. I could see why you would be."

John sighed, buried his face in his hands and threw every ounce of control he did have into simply making it home. Rodney had almost made the turnaround at P96-249 (where they'd gated from the Wraith planet to prevent any trail back to Atlantis). It wouldn't be long. He could escape from all the staring, soon. He felt a firm grip on his shoulder.

"We're very glad to have you with us, son. Tired or no, it's still a great relief to find you whole and well."

"You mean young," John quipped from behind his hands. He knew what they were all thinking. _They'd all seen..._

"Aye," Beckett agreed firmly with a squeeze before he pulled his hand away.

"Well," Ronon began with enough mischief in his voice that John peeked through his fingers to see what his friend was up to. "Not _that_ old at least."

"Ronon!" Teyla scolded.

John glared and Ronon just guffawed at the impotent threat.

"I take back being grateful you showed up," he growled even as he felt his lips twitch into a grin. _But it's nice that you did,_ he thought.

* * *

Alex, Case, Jones, and Hutch stood up once the jumper's hatch hit the bay floor and stood at attention until the Colonel was escorted out, surrounded by his team and Dr. Beckett. Dex, (who carried the equivalent rank of Captain) released them with a wave. Alex's face still felt hot with fury and he kept his glare on Case, ignoring the welcome-home party at the bottom of the ramp and paying no attention to Dr. Weir's exclamations of surprise or her leap at Colonel Sheppard followed by a scandalous hug.

Beckett finally tugged hard enough to get the Colonel moving in the direction of the infirmary and Alex's team headed in the opposite direction, towards the ready rooms and armory. He had every intention of holding Case back, but the guy was already walking like the wounded. He looked as dazed as the Colonel they'd just recovered. Jones and Hutch turned into the hall first and Alex grabbed Case by the vest to slam him into the bay wall the second they were out of site.

"What the hell is _wrong_ with you?" Alex spat. Case blinked and dumbly stared back. "Are you high? Jesus, what were you thinking, questioning the Colonel's orders to his face like that? After what he'd just been though?"

"He let it go. He just...let it go." Case spoke like he'd just seen Sheppard commit murder.

"So _what_? Sheppard can give the damn Wraith a hand job for all we care. It's his call. But if you ever embarrass me or our squad that way again, I will personally see to it your life is a living hell. I busted my ass to get put on offworld ops. I will not let you fuck that up for me!"

Alex could never remember being so angry. The Colonel had been tortured by the Genii, fed on by the wraith, according to Beckett himself. And still, Sheppard had managed to break _himself _out. Case should be singing the man's praises like usual. Alex couldn't figure out what he was so screwed up about.

"The Wraith got in his head, forced him to let it go. He was compromised. That has to be it." Case was doing that talking to himself thing again.

"Case, you DON'T KNOW what happened!" Alex yelled.

"I saw what happened. The Senior commander of our base just collaborated with the Wraith and released it back to the enemy. We sat there and let him do it."

"Because Sheppard _ordered_ us to."

"No!" Case finally looked at Alex like he saw him, and a shiver went down Alex's spine. There was something in Case's eyes that wasn't...right. "Colonel Sheppard would _never_ collaborate with the enemy. NEVER!"

"Jesus, Case, that's what I've been saying! Are you fucking schizophrenic? We don't have the whole story. Shit, the people upstairs don't even have the whole story. Beckett told us to expect Sheppard to look like an old man so we wouldn't freak when we found him."

"The Wraith unsucked him," Case muttered, gone again. "It called him its...brother. Oh, god. He let it go."

Alex cursed in disgust. "Fuck you, Case. I give up. You're so sure Sheppard screwed up? YOU go tell him. Just do it on your own time and leave the rest of us out of it. I'm out of here." Alex shoved Case in the chest and turned to leave the bay, but Case was faster. Alex felt his arm yanked behind his back and twisted into his shoulder blades. His cheek hit the wall and Case pressed close, crushing him into the patterned metal.

"Get off!" Alex spat and struggled against the hold, but Case was twenty pounds heavier and bulkier than him. He started to cough when the pressure against his chest pushed the air out. "Case!" he gasped as loud as he could muster. Case let go and Alex spun, his back against the wall his hands defensive.

Case was just standing there, looking confused. He looked on the freakin verge of tears. "I know what I saw."

"You don't know shit," Alex spat, too furious to think. "Don't you ever touch me again. Ever."

Alex fled the jumper bay before he tried to belt that freaky arrogance off Case's face. He had no idea what had just happened. He couldn't figure out anything Case had said. The only thing he was certain of was that Case was nuts. More than he thought.

He was done. Done being Case's conscience. Done trying to get the man to see reality. It only pissed him off and didn't work anyway.

"He'll get what's coming," Alex growled to himself. "One of these days, he'll flip in front of Lorne or Sheppard himself and it'll be all over. He'll find his ass on the first wormhole back to Earth."

And Alex would buy the first round of drinks when that happened.

* * *

Alex kept clear of Case for the next two weeks. It wasn't easy - they were in the same squad and often pulled the same offworld jobs together. When he did have to be in the same place, he stuck to his work and didn't talk to Case at all beyond what was required. Off duty, though, he made it a point to have nothing to do with the man. Case seemed to be doing the same.

On the job, Case seemed himself: arrogant, know-it-all, as zoomie-wannabee as ever. Off duty was a different story. Alex saw him get into two fights before he started to sit by himself in the rec room in the evenings, usually staring into space. He was alone all the time. He drank more, too. Most of them didn't have the spare dough to spend on the contraband beer that made it to Pegasus - not for less than a special occasion, at least. Case seemed to have his own reasons. He'd gotten over the Sheppard thing, too. Alex hadn't heard him drop Sheppard's name or imply a 'close personal relationship' once since they'd picked the Colonel off of Kolya's planet.

Overall, Alex considered this an improvement and, eventually, stopped thinking about it all together.


	2. Chapter 2

Part II - Atlantis - Present day (2yrs 5mo)

(_Just after Phantoms_)

Sgt. Alex Weiss loaded a round into the chamber of his Beretta, checked the safeties, then holstered the weapon. Since they were going to a tiny island, barren of all life including bugs and squirrels, even, the procedure was more formality than necessity. They weren't taking anything but sidearms and even Colonel Sheppard was leaving behind his P-90, rumored to be a rare thing. Since he was the one who'd been to the island already, more than once, Alex was content to trust his judgment.

"Let's go!" Case bellowed them out of the ready room. Alex stifled a sigh. Of all the ad hoc teams put together for the random offworld missions Atlantis required, it seemed like Alex got stuck with Case a lot more than the odds should dictate. And this mission was such a picnic, too: tear down and lug home weather equipment in the middle of a typhoon. Great.

At least the Colonel was going. Alex couldn't figure out why, except that rumors going around were that Dr. McKay didn't trust "grunts" to handle his equipment without supervision and that Sheppard was sucking up for shooting him on the damn Wraith mind-fuck planet. Anyone who'd even been close to the infirmary the past three days had heard the doctor loudly rubbing it in. For all Alex knew, Sheppard could be going offworld just to get some peace from the bitching for an hour or so.

The thought of the wraith planet sank a cold knot in Alex's stomach as he finished readying his gear and queued up by the door. They'd lost another gate team and two more Marines when Sheppard's team went to look for them. Alex had been angling for a month to get on Major Leonard's team when Largent was rotated out next month. He still missed Mickey. It had been a crappy few months.

Sometimes...life on Atlantis was hard. Sometimes the enemy wasn't even there and your people killed each other, through no fault of their own. You couldn't just shoot a damn mind control device like an enemy who shot at you first. The Genii had caused them as much trouble as the Wraith, but they were allies...sometimes.

The one thing Alex had learned to hang onto was faith in his command. Sheppard at least seemed able to get himself and his team out of most scrapes. But more than the man's resourcefulness, Alex saw a commander that didn't ask any more of his people than he asked of himself. As long as that remained the case, Alex kept hope that what he was doing wasn't futile.

He also saw a man who gave them the real shit. Sheppard had answered questions, from anyone, for an hour after getting back from the mind-fuck planet. It wasn't easy to hear that one of your senior officers had killed five of his own people, wounded another and blown himself up on a grenade. Sheppard had seemed intent on explaining the screwy circumstances and was adamant that Major Leonard was to be mourned as a hero KIA, not a psychopath. When the Colonel softly admitted that he himself had turned on his own team as example of the device's ability to fuck with you, the ready room had gone quiet and the message had sunk in - the Colonel's devotion to his team was as legendary (and as verified) as his destruction of two hives from a single dart. Clearly the device was to blame.

As Case shouted and slapped them out the ready room door, Alex smirked. Case had stood up and walked out during the Q&A. No doubt overcome by his love for his commander, he'd had to excuse himself to weep in private, Alex thought, the exasperation thick even in his own head. He still wasn't speaking to Case.

"Move! We don't want to keep Sheppard waiting!" Case bellowed again, and Alex jerked his head up. Case had sounded almost...mocking, when he'd said the Colonel's name. Was he just bullying them like usual? Or was he pissed at Sheppard for taking them on this crappy job? Alex followed the rest towards the gateroom, puzzled.

Sheppard really was waiting for them. When Alex, along with Hutch, Case and Celvano, hit the gateroom platform the Colonel was already bellowing for the dial out. Alex hastily pulled the hood up on his poncho and tied down the straps under his chin. Hutch and Celvano did the same, Case pulled out a floppy, wide brimmed hat.

As the Stargate sang and groaned, Sheppard walked the platform, spoke to each of them, repeated their names.

"Any questions, boys?" he asked lightly, tightening down his own poncho. "Sorry about the weather. We'll get wet, but it's a tropical island so we won't get cold."

"Any girls in bikinis, sir?" Hutch dared. He would. What the five-foot-ten-inch California boy lacked in height, he made up for in brass. Sheppard chortled.

"If there were, Corporal, I'd be packing my surf board instead of this." He patted his Beretta. "But look around when you're there. We might have to go back once the storm passes. Do some serious "research" on the beach."

"Yes, sir!" Hutch and Celvano crowed. Celvano was tall, skinny and brainy. He liked to take stuff apart and his bunk was cluttered with models of sports cars he put together and then modified like most guys tinkered with real cars. Alex knew he was on the team as the technical lead and 2nd in command to Case who was NCOIC today.

Case just rolled his eyes at the frivolity and again Alex was surprised. What the hell was up with him? He knew Case hadn't been as doe-eyed about the Colonel since the whole 'letting the wraith go' thing, but he'd never seen the man go disrespectful.

"What's biting you?" Alex whispered when he ended up next to Case, waiting on the all-clear from the control room to go through.

"Nothing," Case snapped with only a single glance his direction. "Just stay out of my way."

"Fine, dickweed," Alex shot back and took a step away. He felt his face flush and cursed Case for getting to him so easily.

"Move out," Sheppard said, not having to bellow to have the attention of every man on the platform.

Sheppard and Hutch disappeared into the event horizon and Alex stepped forward with Case and Celvano, counting down. Anger was quickly replaced by the thrill he felt every time he went offworld. He couldn't give this up, so going home wasn't an option. Maybe he should request a transfer out of Case's squad.

When he got to seven, he took a step and felt the tingling of energy that preceded transport. Everything but his job fled from his mind in that moment. On the other side, the usual arrival "splut" was followed by a conspicuous splush. Alex's foot squelched over the thin layer of mud that covered the rock the Stargate sat on. A rush of sound hit him next and he squinted against the drops of rain that smacked his exposed cheeks and eyelashes, driven by a stiff, salty wind. The sound was the white roar of a downpour onto his poncho hood. Every drop resonated like a damn drum underneath the taught vinyl.

He fanned out in his assigned formation, keeping the Colonel in the corner of his eye. Sheppard was dead ahead, standing in an easy slouch near where the ground seemed to become ocean all of a sudden. Alex completed his pattern and realized the Colonel was a few feet away from the edge of a cliff, or overlook. The Stargate dumped travelers onto the top of a rocky, flat-topped mountain - the highest point of the whole tiny island. Alex flicked a look behind him and saw the DHD, in its very unusual placement _behind _the gate. The dialing device was surrounded by an equally unusual block of Ancient metal - as if the Ancients who'd put it there had expected more than the normal amount of wear and tear.

Below, whitecapped waves rushed the beach more than 30 meters down. The rounded edge he stood upon curved into a steep but not quite vertical slope, wet and glistening in the pouring rain. Enough water was collecting that there were whole streams slucing downhill, cutting grooves on the otherwise unusually smooth rock face. Alex whistled.

"Hell of a waterslide!" he said loud enough for Sheppard to hear over the rain.

"Better than an E-ticket, ride," Sheppard agreed still staring at the ground below.

"You thinking of trying it?"

"No. I'm trying to figure out where the island went."

"Huh?"

"This cliff was at least two hundred meters from the beach the last time I was here."

Alex looked at the waves crashing onto rocks almost directly below. "No kidding? That's a hell of a tide."

"Yeah." Sheppard spun on his heel, facing the team that was standing around getting wet. Alex stiffened, ready for his orders. "Case, leave one of your men here to watch the gate, take the rest to the site where McKay's gear is. Radio back when you've packed it up. I'll come help you lug the stuff up the hill if you need it."

"Yes, sir," Case snapped a crisp reply, jerked his head at them. "Celvano, take Weiss and Hutch. I'll stay with the Stargate." Alex shot a surprised look at Case, then at the rest of the team. They were as surprised as he was that Case had given himself guard duty. A low rumble of thunder announced another gust of wind that flapped their ponchos. Alex's sleeves were already soaked to the elbows, despite the supposed water-resistance of their uniform jackets.

"Sometime today would be nice, Gentlemen," Sheppard prodded, pulling out a hand scanner and poking at it as he spoke. Celvano recovered first.

"Let's go. The stuff is about three kliks from here. It's downhill the whole way."

"Don't slip," Hutch chided throwing a last mournful look at the steep drop to the beach.

"The other way's an easy hike." Sheppard sounded like he was trying to be positive. "But yeah, don't slip."

Alex followed Hutch over the edge of the mountain rock platform in the opposite direction from the steep drop. The backside sloped gently away down to the western three quarters of the island. The way Sheppard had described it as it looked from the air had reminded Alex of Diamond Head in Hawaii. A teeny tiny Diamond head, at least. The path they were cutting didn't get any less rocky, but strange palm tree things sprung up, almost out of the rock itself, once they were a few meters down. A few beyond that, the broad, flat leaves even offered some shelter from the wind-driven rain.

"You think this place really is nice when it's not raining or was the Colonel just yanking our chains?" Hutch grumbled after he, in fact, had slipped and almost planted his butt on the ground for the second time.

"I noticed he didn't jump at the chance to come with us." Alex was about to protest when Celvano went on, "but he did offer to help us carry back. Think we should take him up or was he just being nice?"

"I'll tell you when I see how heavy the damn stuff is."

"What do you think Case is playing at, taking babysitting duty?" Alex wondered a little while later. Something what nagging at him that he couldn't quite pin down. The Colonel had as much as ordered Case to lead the team to the equipment. It wasn't like Case to do anything even remotely out of square when on the job, and especially when he had a chance to show off in front of Sheppard.

"I think he spotted a nice fat palm tree to sit under and stay out of the rain while we get soaked," Hutch said. "Suits me, though. That guy's weird."

Before Alex could decide whether to agree out loud or not, they were distracted by Celvano's crow of relief.

"Here's the stuff! Finally. Let's get this crap taken apart and get the hell home where it's dry."

Alex chimed in with his agreement and the three of them were soon tackling the jumble of sensors, transmitters, cables and Ancient doodads. Celvano was the techie and Alex just followed his instructions, swiping water out of his eyes every few seconds. The gear had been placed in a small valley that sunk slightly below the surrounding ground and water was collecting around their ankles into remarkably deep puddles. It was like standing in a damn, stone bowl.

"Why didn't they put this up on top of the mountain by the Stargate?" Hutch was grumbling again as he and Alex heaved the last sensor into its crate and latched down the lid, sloshing with every step.

"Dr. McKay said something about shelter from direct wind so the sensors would read more accurately."

"Huh?" Hutch grunted, sticking his chin out like a Neanderthal.

"It's too windy up there," Celvano retorted with a snort. "What do you think? Call Sheppard or haul it ourselves."

There was a beat of complete silence and then Hutch smacked his forehead with his palm.

"It'll take him twenty minutes to get here!" Hutch cried, just now figuring it out and laughing so hard he doubled over. "That bastard! May he live forever! He knew we wouldn't want to wait for him."

"Rank hath its privileges," Alex said with a grin of his own. "Give him a break. He had to spend the whole time making small talk with Case."

"Yikes. When you put it that way, I'm going to suggest he take hazard pay when we get back. 'So, sir. Do you think I could be any more wonderful, or have I achieved perfection already? I'd really love your opinion on the matter. There's no one I respect more. Than myself, that is." Hutch puffed out his chest in a remarkable impersonation of Case, and Alex about wet himself, he was laughing so hard. It wasn't really appropriate, but Alex felt better, knowing that he wasn't the only one who thought Case was off his rocker.

Celvano just rolled his eyes and smacked his radio. "Celvano to Sheppard, come in."

"Go ahead," came the Colonel's reassuring growl.

"We just finished packing up the gear. We're headed your way. ETA, oh...thirty minutes or so. Took us twenty to get here going down hill."

"Understood. Need any help?"

Celvano flicked a glance at Hutch who promptly busted up laughing again. "No, sir. We got it. We'll call when we're closer to the top if we need a hand up that last steep bit."

"Got it. Sheppard out."

Hutch finally got himself under control and jabbed his hand in the air. "Heave to, men. Glory and a warm spot by the fire await." Good to his own command, he then bent over to heft a box.

Alex got a box under one arm, and grabbed a handle on another to lift with Celvano. As they started back up the hill, Hutch suddenly chortled to himself again.

"When I'm as old as Sheppard, I hope I'm as cool," Alex heard him say.

* * *

"Understood. You need any help?"

John made the offer, meaning it if the guys needed him, but rather expecting they wouldn't want to stand in the rain and wait for him to get there. The background laughter and Celvano's resigned voice confirmed that they had just figured that part out.

"No, sir. We got it. We'll call when we're closer to the top if we need a hand up that last steep bit."

"Got it. Sheppard out."

John closed the channel and leaned back against the palm tree he was camping under with a chuckle. Next time, those guys will call sooner, he thought with another grin. _Fool me once_... Sometimes it was as much curse as blessing to work with the best and brightest. The rain hadn't let up an ounce since they'd arrived. If anything, the wind seemed to be whipping at the broad leaves above him a little harder and the sky had grown even darker.

"Looks like we'll get out of here just in time to miss the fun stuff," John called to Case who was kneeling by the DHD, his gun drawn, still as a statue and staring at him. It was starting to creep him out.

It had only taken a few seconds in the gateroom for John to remember the sergeant: No sense of humor. Mr. Appreciation one day, Cold Shoulder Sam the next. Sometimes it was hard for the kiddies to figure out their elders weren't perfect and John got that. He just didn't know if he'd pissed the kid off by not killing Todd, or by snapping at him in the jumper about it.

Either way, he'd spent a little time after the rest of the team left trying to make nice. John had a pretty healthy opinion of his ability to earn his people's respect - he'd learned to just be himself. Usually, _himself_ was a pretty nice guy. Just not after he'd just been fed on by a wraith repeatedly...

Case had just responded to his attempts at small talk with one-syllable answers, then excused himself to patrol the perimeter, ending up in permanent sentry beside the DHD, soaking wet and staring at John like he expected him to leap up and start singing show tunes. Case tilted his head at John's comment. John flung an arm at the sky, pushed off his tree and strolled towards the overlook.

"Zelenka said the storm will peak in a few more hours, but that it isn't going to reach hurricane force. Just a nice little tropical depression. He wanted to get the gear off the island in case the wind was strong enough to damage the sensors, but I'm more worried about that tide. Or storm surge, or whatever ate the rest of the island."

Case turned his head to watch him pass the stargate and stand a few feet from the edge, but he didn't say anything. John sighed. It was like talking to a brick wall, that one. A shiver of unease crept down his neck. The sense of loneliness he'd been feeling since he'd left the Officer's ready room this morning sharpened into a knot that almost felt like homesickness.

Teyla was still in the infirmary and McKay had just been released, still nursing wounds John himself had inflicted. The thought of the time under the influence of the wraith mind-control device still brought shudders to his shoulders, and a flush of anger to his chest - anger at himself - amping up his restlessness.

Ronon just hadn't wanted to spend two hours in the rain, and John couldn't blame him. Although he could admit that he missed his buddy for no other reason than Ronon was just simply interesting to hang out with. More interesting than sergeant wet blanket. Oh, hey! That was kind of funny, he thought.

John pulled his gaze from the crashing waves below - the tide had risen another meter at least in only the short time they'd been here! - and looked back, planning to try for at least one conversation that didn't end in awkward cheerfulness on his part.

"You have any plans for the rest of your tour on Atlantis sarge..." John began, then broke off when his turn brought him face to face with Case. The kid had walked up behind him, unheard in the constant white noise of wind and rain. He had his hands around his 9 mm and as John spun, a bit startled, Case firmed his grip and aimed the muzzle at John's chest.

"What's this about, sergeant?" John asked, as lightly as he could at the volume he had to yell to be heard. John was confused as hell. He even shot a glance over both shoulders to make sure Case wasn't aiming at something behind him. There was nothing except a 30-meter granite waterslide and crashing surf.

"Tell me who you are!" Case shouted. John would have laughed if the kid didn't look so serious...and wasn't aiming a loaded 9mm at him. Case shifted a step closer, settled into an even firmer firing stance and John felt his hands and his hackles going up of their own accord. "TELL me!" Case bellowed.

John took a fast breath, "I am Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard, United States Air Force and your commanding officer _sergeant_. Now stand down."

"You're lying! Colonel Sheppard of the United States Air Force is a hero. He's the single most brilliant field officer in the Stargate Program."

"I'm flattered. That's very nice of you to say. Now lower your damn weapon!"

"No!" Case screamed, the cold professionalism he'd worn since leaving Atlantis cracking a bit to reveal something very, very disturbing underneath. John had a sudden flashback to Major Leonard backing away from him and calling to people who weren't there...just before he ate his own grenade. John's heart revved into high gear and he felt the adrenaline rush hit his brain like nitrous oxide.

"No! Colonel Sheppard destroyed two hive ships singlehandedly in a lone dart. Sheppard stopped the hives that discovered the location of Earth in the void."

"I'm Sheppard, I did those things. I had a lot of help but that was me. Now just -"

"Stop lying!"

Case lunged so fast that John didn't even get his hands up before the kid's fist connected with his jaw, just at the spot where it hurt the damn most. Case knew his street fighting moves, damn him. John reeled and went down on one knee, one hand rubbing at the spot that was still firing off jolts of ouch, the other drifting towards his own holster. Before he could figure out what the hell to do, Case put the muzzle of his own gun on John's forehead.

John froze, looked up into Case's face that had gone cold and professional again.

"I'm, sorry. Sorry..." John gasped. He felt the toe of his foot push a rock over the very edge of the rounded clifftop. "What do you want, Sergeant. Let's talk. Tell me what you want." He forced his voice into calm tones, fighting the swirl of anger, confusion and terror that kept giving him mixed signals on what to do. He didn't want to hurt the kid. He didn't want the kid to hurt himself. Leonard's panicked face flicked again through John's mind. At least that time they had some clue that weird things were happening. What the hell was going on here?

"I want you to tell me who _you_ are."

John waited, hoping for more. His last answer to that question had gotten him a sore jaw. Case's expression went suddenly, inexplicably grief-stricken.

"Colonel Sheppard would never collaborate with the enemy. When _you_ let that _thing_ go, I knew. I knew right then. You're not Colonel Sheppard. _He_ would never have let it go. _He_ would never have allowed Dr. McKay's carelessness drain Atlantis's defenses so low. _He_ would have brought Major Leonard and his own team home _alive_. Colonel _Sheppard_ is the single most brilliant field officer in the Stargate Program."

"So you've said," John whispered. He closed his eyes, almost shaking as visions of Leonard exploding on the forest floor, of Rodney on the ground, of Teyla bleeding in his arms nearly overwhelmed him.

"I need to know," Case went on, and there was a cocky sound back in his voice, "Is Sheppard in _there_," he waved his gun up and down indicating John's body, "somewhere, or are you a copy? A clone. Because if I'm going to save him, I don't want to get it wrong."

John's mind was racing in circles, but there was only one answer to that question.

"Oh, I'm in here. I mean, he's in here. He's had a crappy few months, I'll admit, but he...I...we are right...here." John threw in as big a nod as he could get away with without bouncing the gun around on his skull too much.

"That does make it more difficult," Case said, nodding to himself. "I don't want to injure the Colonel's body too badly to get you out."

"No, you definitely want to keep the body intact," John agreed. "Why don't we... why don't you take me...us...him back to Atlantis. Give him...us to Dr. Beckett. If anyone can figure out how to get me back, it'll be Carson."

"Oh, that won't work!" Case blurted.

"Why not?" John snapped, then clamped his jaw shut. His poncho hood had slipped off and rain was flooding over his scalp and dripping into his eyes. He could hardly see Case looming large and intimidating above him. The kid was big, bulky. John hated cowering like a rabbit, but his frantic mind had decided to play the part, to play along.

"Because if the doctors were going to find something, they already would have. I've seen you in the infirmary for checkups dozens of times."

"Oh." He'd really been hoping that trick would work. "So, what? Wait until the others get back?"

"No...no. I have to save him. The Colonel's counting on me. Atlantis needs him back. I owe him."

Case's face went wistful again. While John watched warily, Case dropped one hand to his belt, still holding the gun at John's face. The hand came back up holding his knife. John found himself breathing fast, taut as a bow. He had no idea what to expect. No way to guess how the man's psychosis would manifest.

"If the Colonel is in there, tell him I'm sorry for what I have to do to get him back."

That was too much for John. His foot was already planted, the knee he'd been kneeling on wet and cold against the rock. He lunged up and forward at the same time, hoping to surprise Case enough to throw him down and get the weapons away at least. The first part worked - Case's eyes went wide at the attack and John got his hand on Case's arm. With a shove, the gun was no longer aimed at John's head. But when he followed through and flung his shoulder into Case's chest, it was like hitting that brick wall he'd been talking to earlier.

Case grunted a little, flailed as he fought for balance, then smashed John's head with the side of the 9 mil. He followed up with a sweep of his foot and kicked John's feet out from under him. John went down onto his shoulder with his feet tangled up, but he rolled and came up back on one knee at the edge of the cliff, facing Case. John could see that there would be no more talking. Case's face was livid, an unhealthy purple.

_Damn_, John thought and dove for his holster, hoping he'd be fast enough, hoping he could pull off a shot that would stop the kid without killing him, wishing to hell that Ronon was here.

Case's eyes went murderous as he realized John's intention, and lifted the gun he still had ready to hand. John was usually a pretty damn fast draw, but the poncho flapped over the grip and his soaking wet hands fumbled over the slippery metal. Case was so close that John saw the muzzle flash and felt a hammer slam into his shoulder even before he realized that the crack of the shot was almost drowned out by the howling, thundering wind.

The impact flung him back and he landed on his side, one leg dangling precariously over the edge of the slide. Case loomed over him and he rolled onto his back, still trying to reach for his gun, but his arm wasn't working right on that side anymore. There wasn't any pain, yet, just an aching stiffness and that weird sensation of trying to get yourself to move and not being able to do it. He managed to make his hand flop a little against the ground and Case put his foot on the fingers, pressing down to hold them still.

John felt his heart racing, but more from anger than anything.

"Stand...down!" he managed to cough out a hoarse shout. Case just pressed a little harder on John's fingers.

"You don't have any authority over me, whatever you are," Case snarled.

"I'm Sheppard. Damn it! I'm Sheppard!"

In one last mercurial shift of emotion, Case's face twisted into a horrible expression of grief-stricken fury. "Sheppard is dead. I see that now. There's no reason for me to keep you alive any longer."

Case stepped back, moved his gun to John's head looking like he was about to do nothing more than put down a mongrel dog. John was at the end of this particular rope. The rest of the team wouldn't be back for fifteen at least and there was no more stalling, no talking. How could you talk sense to a guy who was living in a delusion? There was no time and nowhere to go.

John kept his eyes locked on Case, every second feeling like an eternity that would unfold in exactly one way, no matter how hard John tried to change it. There was no doubt about the decision Case had come to in his twisted, screwed-up little mind. Something like remorse flickered in those insane eyes and then Case leaned into his aim.

A split second before he was sure Case was going to fire, John rolled. His shoulder screamed with the first felt agony, but he managed enough momentum to tumble himself over the edge and down the steep slide. With a magnificent heave, he twisted as he fell and got his feet pointed down. He lay as flat as he could against the slope, but still, every bump, crevice and rough edge dug into the flesh on his hips, thighs, and backside. He could feel the fabric on the back of his vest getting warm from the friction. His Beretta kept scraping rock and tugging on his thigh as the exposed butt caught on grooves. The back half of his poncho fluttered behind him like some weird cape.

He dug his boot heels into the rock, desperately trying to slow his slide that was gaining velocity with every passing second. The surf rushed up at him with terrifying speed. Panicked, he dug his heels too hard, caught a groove, and his legs were twisted under him and to the side. He was jerked horizontal across the cliff face and began to roll, like a kid playing on a grassy hill, his poncho flapping wildly as he spun. He instinctively tucked, felt himself hit a slight rise. He went freefall for the last three meters and smacked into the very edge of the surf with a splash and a slight crunch of gravel.

The already injured shoulder shrieked in protest at this newest abuse. John's head slammed into the sodden sand...and then there was nothing.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Half an hour after they started, Alex was slipping and sliding back up the hill with their load, out of breath and all of them back to grumpy as hell. Alex was so wet, he'd given up on the poncho hood that only magnified the sound of the rain and made his head sweat. His hair was plastered to his head, and his face was twisted into a permanent grimace to channel the rain, but at least he wasn't hot. It felt like the drops were stinging harder the closer they got.

The last 50 meters was steep, the rocky top of the Stargate's mountain almost as smooth on this side as the steeper drop off the other. After they'd slipped and slid with little progress, Alex dropped his box and worked his hands, trying to stretch out the cramps.

"Call Sheppard and Case on the damn radio. I'm tired and we could use some help, here."

"Did anyone bring rope," Hutch wondered. "We might make better time if we had a guide line to pull ourselves up."

Celvano shrugged, too tired to waste effort one extra words.

"Celvano to Sheppard, come in. We're a hundred meters below the gate and could really use some help with this last hill, sir."

There was a long pause. They stood, breathing hard, waiting for a reply.

"Sir?"

Still nothing.

"Case! Are you there? What's going on?" Celvano's voice grew sharp and Alex found himself staring, his chest clenching with dread. Celvando dropped his hand from the radio and threw an alarmed look at them.

"Maybe...they changed channels?" suggested Hutch.

"Interference?" Alex guessed.

"Let's go," Celvano said simply, his expression grim. "Keep your eyes open," he added. Alex didn't find that order very reassuring.

As tired as they were, the boxes didn't seem quite so heavy anymore and they scrabbled up the hill faster than Alex could have believed possible, charged by a sense of unease. When they reached the last ridge, Alex saw Hutch unlatch the snap on his holster and Celvano had his free hand on the knife in his belt. A gust of wind as they crested almost knocked them back down the hill. The rocky platform was thick with rain and the grey, roiling ocean beyond the plateau was hidden from view by sheets of water. A single shadow stood silhouetted against the cloudy nothingness at the edge of the cliff.

At a silent signal from Celvano, they dropped the gear, drew their weapons and moved towards the shadow, fanning out as if approaching a wraith.

"Sheppard!" Celvano shouted as they drew within hailing distance. The wind and roar of rain almost drowned him out even then. "Colonel Sheppard, is that you?"

The figure startled, Alex tensed, and then it turned. It was Case. "Hey! There you are! Let me dial it up for you, let's get the hell out of here so we can get dry," he said with that forced expression he used when he was trying to be pleasant.

"Where's Sheppard?" Celvano asked, lowering his weapon, but not his guard. Alex exchanged a glance with Hutch who looked as whacked as he felt.

"He got called back to Atlantis. Something about long range sensors and an intel report from the Athosians. I told the Colonel we could handle the rest and would get Dr. McKay's equipment home safe and sound."

Celvano's gun went even lower and his shoulders relaxed. "Why didn't you answer the radio?"

Case looked genuinely surprised. "Oh, did you call? Sorry. Wind is a bitch, can't hear anything."

Alex caught Celvano's puzzled look before he said, "Sheppard heard us fine."

"We were sheltering under the trees, then, while we waited for you. You must have called when I was up here in the wind."

"When what?" Celvano yelled as Case's last words were drowned out by a particularly mournful gust. Alex raised his hand to his brow to shield his eyes from the stinging rain.

Case just raised his eyebrows and flashed an "I told you so" smirk. Celvano laughed, holstered his weapon. Hutch and Alex followed suit, albeit more slowly.

"You scared the pants off us, Case. Next time, warn us when plans change."

"I didn't think the situation warranted it. I've got everything under control."

THAT sounded like Case, smug and arrogant - and completely clueless to how someone else might interpret a situation.

"So glad to hear it," Hutch muttered. Alex couldn't exactly hear him, but he saw his lips move and threw Hutch a grin.

"Go get the stuff. I'll dial."

Case hustled to the DHD, as if he were afraid one of them was going to get there first and claim "finders keepers." God, the man was a piece of work.

The Stargate was singing when Alex lifted Hutch's box and nudged Hutch towards the smaller one he had carried earlier. Hutch had complained like an old woman, but he'd taken the heaviest box and carried it the whole way up the hill. Least Alex could do was take the big one that last few feet. He got the box around to the front of the Stargate just as the initializing wave stretched towards the cliff's edge, pushing him that direction to avoid the deadly splash. Rain sizzled as it intersected quantum energy.

Hutch and Celvano came waddling around the edge, sharing the handles of the last two boxes and Alex put his box down to let them go through first. He stretched his sore shoulder muscles as they navigated their awkward load. Struck by a sudden curiosity, Alex wandered over to the edge of the cliff, wondering how high the tide had risen since they'd been there, thinking maybe he'd make a few points with Sheppard himself if he made note of the phenomenon that the Colonel had found so interesting.

The rain was so thick that the horizon was still hidden behind a curtain of wind-driven rain. He could hardly see to the bottom of the rock slide, which had become almost a waterfall in the downpour. Alex was about to turn back - the tide line definitely looked higher than even just an hour ago - when he spotted a black blob right against the cliff wall that he didn't think had been there before. It was too far away and too poor visibility to make anything out, but he thought it was moving a little, away from the waves or with the waves, perhaps.

Behind him, the splut of the Stargate told him that Hutch and Celvano had finally lugged their load through.

"Weiss, get your ass away from the edge and haul that box home." Case was suddenly in his face looking angry and bossy, as usual. He had to shout to be heard, which pissed Alex off, even if it shouldn't. Case gave him a shove away from the edge, just to polish off the impression of complete asshole, Alex thought. "What the hell are you looking at?" Case demanded, still glaring.

Alex hesitated a moment, then turned his back on Case to grab his box. The sooner he was home, the sooner he could get back to ignoring the idiot.

"Nothing. Just some flotsam moving around down there."

"Moving?" Case's voice sounded suddenly hesitant.

"Probably just waves pushing a log around."

Case didn't bother to reply. When Alex got to the event horizon, he turned his head, expecting Case to be breathing down his neck. He was instead, staring over the edge as Alex had been, a frozen silhouette again.

"Hey! I thought you were in a damn hurry!" Alex yelled over the howling wind.

Case turned, waved him on. "I'm right behind you."

"Nutjob," Alex murmured to himself and stepped into the event horizon.

He emerged, dripping, on the Stargate platform and promptly shivered.

"Damn, it's cold in here," he said around another shiver. It wasn't, but it felt cold compared to the humid typhoon they'd been bathing in for more than an hour.

"What took you so long?" Hutch asked. He and Celvano were huddled off to one side, looking as chilled as Alex felt. Large puddles of water were spreading from the boxes they'd hauled back, and there was another puddle under the feet of each man.

"Not you, too! I was just looking at the damn beach below the Stargate. Colonel Sheppard was interested in the tide and I thought I'd take a last look. Case chewed me out like I was rubbernecking for the fun of it."

"Well this time, I'm glad he did. I'm freezing. I want to go take a hot shower and get dry."

Hutch did look cold and miserable. They were distracted from their self-pity by Dr. Zelenka, the frizzy-haired scientist Alex had seen his very first day on Atlantis.

"This is weather equipment from MMG-404?"

"Yeah, doc. Hope the rain didn't mess anything up. It was pretty much hurricane conditions the whole time." Celvano gave an idle wave, then tucked his hands back under his arms.

"Is weather equipment!" Zelenka replied cheerfully, unlatching one of the boxes and peeking inside. "Is most weatherproof. I'm sure there is no problem. I am just interested in data it has collected. MMG-404 is a very interesting planet, similar to this one when considering percentage of water to land mass, but quite different in size and composition. Not to mention the presence of a couple of very unusual satellites that we are curious to learn how it affects the tides and land mass that does exist."

Zelenka took another breath to keep talking, but Alex butted into the slight pause, amused. "I'm sure it's very interesting, doc. And the tides are pretty extreme. Colonel Sheppard said that the beach had moved more than 200 meters since the last time he was there."

"You don't say?" Zelenka answered, properly impressed. "We are also still trying to discover why the Ancients put a stargate on that small island."

"Maybe they wanted a vacation," Hutch chimed in.

"Perhaps, but there was a small, cyptic note about hydro-electric power and some ongoing experiment."

"Didn't see anything like generators," Celvano mused.

"No, neither did Colonel Sheppard's initial survey. Sometimes we are frustrated by the Ancient's seemingly vast inability to make proper notes." The guy sounded like he was taking the matter personally, and Alex was about to make a properly sympathetic retort when Zelenka went on, "And speaking of Colonel Sheppard, is he planning to return soon? I have important matter to discuss with him about the Intergalactic Gateway seeding project."

Alex shrugged. "He came back already. About half an hour ago I guess?" he shot a look at Celvano who confirmed the guess with his own shrug.

"No, he has not returned. I asked the gate technician only few minutes ago," Zelenka insisted.

Hutch raised an eyebrow and Celvano frowned, "Case told us the Colonel returned to Atlantis, just after we finished packing the stuff up at the site."

"Where the hell _is_ Case?" Hutch interrupted loudly. They all turned to the still active, still patiently waiting Stargate. At that very moment, the hum of the bright outer ring died and the event horizon disappeared with its trademark electronic slurp.

"What the hell?" Celvano griped, but Alex went stiff. He stared at the quiet Stargate, his heart thumping in his ears as loudly as the rain on his poncho hood. His mind raced, replaying everything in his mind. The last year on Atlantis seemed to wrap back into a loop and Alex suddenly saw Case tripping the Tech Sgt on the pier their first ten minutes on base. He saw Case's wild face when he'd attacked in the jumper bay.

"Stay out of my way," he'd said.

"The Colonel's been compromised," he'd said.

He'd been acting pissed at Sheppard all morning. There had been something small and black jumbled among the rocks below the cliff.

"Oh my god!" Alex whispered. He shivered, but this time from dread. "What have you done, Case? What the hell have you done..."

* * *

John came to coughing and spluttering. He spit gritty, salty water out of his mouth and coughed again, this time managing to raise his head out of the water that kept swirling into his face. When he cracked open his eyes, he saw nothing but wet rock. Struggling to get a grip on where he was and why it was so wet, he pushed against the ground to lift himself higher - and promptly discovered that his whole right side was pretty much toast.

A groan rumbled in his throat and he drew his knees up to curl around the bomb that was exploding from his right shoulder and sending rays of nauseating pain through the rest of him. He wanted to bury his face in the ground and sink back into the comforting warm blackness, but another swell of water splashed his face. He lay, blowing water off his lips, fighting down the pain. Even at his worst, he was pretty sure that sleeping in the damn water was a bad idea.

Mustering his courage, John tried sitting up again. His shoulder flared at the motion, but he gritted his teeth and shifted onto his left hand and knees, then more or less crawled out of the shallow surf to set his back gingerly against the closest boulder. It took another few moments of breathing hard and concentrating to calm the protests. When he was able to look around again, starting to feel a little more alert, he realized he was damn lucky he hadn't fallen across the rock he was leaning against. John tilted his head up to scan the top of the cliff face far above, squinting hard against the still driving rain. It was hard to make out, but he thought he could see a small dark figure against the sky.

A surge of fury competed with shame. How the hell had he missed it? How could one of his people go Section 8 right under his nose and not see it until it got the to point of screaming nonsense and shooting at him?

"So...what now?" he muttered to himself. Call for help, came the answer. Even if Case was still up there, the other guys would hear his S.O.S. and Case would have to either confront all of them or play along. Either way, John could let someone know he was in trouble.

He squirmed until he could get his hand under his poncho to reach for his radio and pulled a face when he felt the plastic case shift a little and grind against itself when he squeezed the pocket it sat in. They hadn't bothered with the ear buds this trip, assuming the rain would screw up the smaller delicate mikes and speakers. He held his breath and squeezed. The speaker on the hand unit crackled and popped, but it was making noise.

"Sheppard to Celvano, come in. Can anyone here me? This is Sheppard. Please respond. Anyone."

There was a beat of silence. John held his breath, listening to the static coming out of the radio. A faint pop and a thud into the ground beside him startled him so badly that he jumped and automatically reached for his holster. Except nothing on that side worked and the attempted motion just slammed him breathless back against the rock.

Another thud, smacked into the sodden gravel, almost at his feet, then a smack and a zing blasted shards of rock into the back of his head, stinging his exposed neck. Someone was shooting at him from above.

"Damn you, Case!" John panted. The pain was pushed away in an instant as survival instinct kicked in.

John heaved himself to his feet, grabbed his shrieking right arm with his left and ducked to the very foot of the cliff face. Two more thuds followed him, a third bounced off an outcrop alarmingly close to John's head.

"Celvano! Apprehend Case, that's an order. He's firing at me, dammit. Stop him!"

The only answer was another round of fire getting closer with each practice shot Case took. Time to move. The broad cliff faced roughly east, so John dashed to the south, following the foot of the wall. A hundred meters from where he'd landed the wall crumbled at the base and grew steeper, rising almost straight up from the beach. A few more bullets nipped at his heels, and then John was ducking under a slight overhang, hidden from direct view from above.

John propped himself against the wall, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "Touchdown," he muttered to himself and then he grabbed for his radio again. "Celvano, come in!"

"You won't get away with it."

John froze at the voice that crackled from his radio's damaged speakers.

"Stand down, Case. Go call for some damn help and turn yourself in. That's an order."

"You killed the Colonel and I'm going to kill you."

"_I'm_ Sheppard, Case!" John screamed, frustrated, terrified, furious and sick all at the same time.

"No. That won't work on me. You have everyone else convinced, brainwashed maybe, but for some reason I'm immune. It's up to me to stop you from doing any more damage than you've already done."

"What have you done with Celvano and the others?" John ground out. There was a pause and his heart thrashed in his chest. He swallowed back visions of Leonard's team, dead and sprawled on the ground at the hands of one of their own. _Not again..._

"I sent them back to Atlantis. They were still under your influence. It's up to me to save them. I...I couldn't save the Colonel. I was too late. I doubted myself. I...blame myself for his death."

"Sheppard is not dead. I am Lt. Colonel John Sheppard, authentication code Alpha Seven Tango Three. You are in serious trouble, sergeant. For insubordination and attacking a superior officer. If you stand down _right now_, you may only face medical discharge. You're not thinking clearly. We'll get you some help, I promise. But if you keep SHOOTING at me," John lost his temper a little bit with the thought, "we're talking criminal charges, court martial, dishonorable discharge. Make the right choice, Case."

There was a longer pause. John didn't know what was going on, but stalling was probably his best tactic. Someone on Atlantis would figure out something weird was going on. He sagged harder against the stone wall and stared out at the violent ocean in front of him. The waves broke against a line of jagged rock that used to be another smaller ridge above what had been a pebble beach the last time John was here. With every crash, water splashed high and swirled even closer to his boots. When Case spoke again, his voice sounded confused.

"Colonel Sheppard was a hero. He...he saved Atlantis from the Wraith during the siege. He convinced Ladon Radim to turn on Cowen and got us out of the Genii prison. He stopped the Hives in the void."

"I did those things, Case. I also let the Wraith go on Kolya's planet. I couldn't stop Major Leonard from killing himself, but I tried. God I tried! I'm not perfect, sergeant. No one is."

John watched the surf, then threw a nervous eye to the horizon. Something about the water was making him more nervous than even the disturbed Sgt...who was taking a really long time to answer by the way...

"Sheppard would never collaborate with the enemy. _Never!_ I can't save him, but I can make you pay for taking him away from me. Case _out_."

The channel closed with a furious burst of static and a pathetic squeal of unhappy electronics. John shuddered. "I'm really not looking forward to seeing that guy again," he muttered to himself.

He was safe for the moment and less wet at least, if not exactly dry. He walked to a flatish rock, still under the protection of the overhang, and sank down. It was time to plug a few holes. Propping his right arm uselessly on his lap, he took three quick breaths and pull the front of the poncho over his head and let it slide to the rock behind him.

Still working with his left hand only, he unzipped his vest and pulled the right side open to peer underneath. He gulped when he saw a hole not only in the backside of the vest, but in the front of his shirt as well. Case's bullet, intended to wing him, he now realized, had been slowed way down by the tough, protective shielding of the vest's not-quite-kevlar lining. A peek underneath the shirt revealed a whopping bruise the size of a grapefruit, centered around an oozing hole in his flesh that matched the hole in his vest. The point-blank shot had made it through, though John tried to remain grateful that the bullet had only lodged in the muscle between his ribcage and shoulder joint instead of going all the way through like it should have.

Fumbling with his awkward hand, he pulled a damp pressure bandage out, shook off the ties and pressed the hopefully-still-sterile pad into the dripping hole. It wasn't bleeding heavily which was a relief. He was so wet from lying in the surf, he hadn't been able to tell if the warm wetness he'd felt trickling down his chest was blood or saltwater.

A gust of wind blew a spray of water into his face and he shivered as the breeze sucked heat from his soaked body, even though it was a warm wind. He let the vest hold the bandage in place and hurriedly probed the rest of his shoulder, feeling for where it hurt more than the broad-spectrum "everything hurts". When he finished the inspection and had fashioned a sling out of his belt, he reached for the poncho again, certain that he had a bullet in his shoulder and a broken collar bone. No wonder his arm wasn't working.

John was struggling with the poncho, eager for the warmth that the heavy, waterproof cover provided, when a wave of water splashed around his feet and soaked into his boots with more, soggy wetness. John jerked the fabric over his head and stared at the ocean again, hard. That water had been at least a foot away when he sat down and now it was covering his ankles with every wave. He peered at the horizon, dark with storm clouds, hazy with rain. He looked at the waterline. He looked back at the frothing sea.

The horizon was...rising?

John stood up, breathing fast. Even as he watched, the ocean seemed to bulge upward from where he stood. It wasn't _fast_, but it was noticeable. His eyes flicked left to right. The whole damn ocean seemed to be rearing up at him. His mind flashed to Zelenka babbling over the weather equipment as he'd prepared to install it with his team, that last time.

"The tide's coming in," John murmured, remembering something about synchronized satellites and extreme tidal forces. He quickly revised his mental definition of "extreme" from somewhere around "a lot" to "holy shit!"

The tide _was_ coming in. And if that damn wall of water eating up more of the sky every second John watched was really as big as it looked, then in about half an hour, there wasn't going to be a very big patch of dry land in this particular section of ocean.

In fact, John was pretty certain there wouldn't be any at all...


	4. Chapter 4

"Damn it! Just dial the damn gate!" Alex shoved a sopping arm at the gateroom technician and flung droplets of water onto the DHD. The technician just scowled at the water and set his face even further into stubbornness. Alex felt a tug and jerked a glare at Hutch who'd put a restraining hand on his arm.

"Chill out, Weiss. Lorne's on his way."

Alex shook off the hand. "We can't wait. The Colonel's in trouble back in that damned storm." Hutch and Celvano shared a look that made Alex all the more furious. "You don't believe me!"

"No, something screwy is definitely going on. Case is playing at something weird, even for him, but -"

"You don't _get_ it. Case did something. He's got this _thing_ for Sheppard. No, dammit! I'm not being a pervert here. Case is obsessed about the Colonel. He has been since before he transferred to Atlantis. But ever since we pulled Sheppard off Kolya's planet a couple months ago, he's been strange. I should have seen it!" Alex heard his voice crack with frustration. "God, I should have _seen_ it!"

The whole control room was looking at him and he started shaking with fury as much as she was shivering with cold. Something had bloomed in his mind, every impulsive act of violence he'd seen Case exhibit, on and off duty, kept playing through his mind. Even if he'd just lost his temper and shoved the Colonel without _intending_ to send him over the cliff, he could see Case doing it.

"Dial the gate!" he yelled again in his best drill sergeant voice. When he was only met with unimpressed glares of damn red tape pushers, he lost his temper completely. "Then I'll fucking to it myself."

He shouldered the technician aside and slapped at the keyboard. There was a momentary scuffle when the technician recovered enough to shove back with an indignant yelp. Hutch and Celvano joined in, pulling on his poncho.

"Get off!" Alex snarled.

"Gentlemen! What is going on?"

"Major!" Celvano cried, the relief obvious in his voice. Alex was yanked away and shoved Lorne's way by Celvano, then held in a grip that was firm but not harsh. "We have a situation. Two of our team didn't make it back from 404. Colonel Sheppard and Sgt. Case are unaccounted for. We need to send a team back to figure out what's going on."

Lorne took a moment, as if sizing them up, then turned to the technician at the communications console. "Get Neglee's team up here ASAP. Tell them to gear up for rain, but speed is priority."

Lorne waited until he was sure the order had been relayed, then turned back to Alex's team. "Catch me up, gentlemen." Alex relaxed a little, some of his frustration melting in the face of something getting done but it still wasn't enough. He wriggled off Celvano's hold.

"You need a jumper, sir. If Sheppard really is at the bottom of that cliff, then he fell a hell of a long way."

Lorne held up a hand, his face going from professional to _intense_. "Say what, Sergeant? I need to hear this story, _immediately_."

Alex opened his mouth, but Celvano shot him an "I'm in charge, here" look.

"The three of us plus Sheppard and Sgt. Case went to 404 to tear down weather equipment. Sheppard and Case stayed at the gate and we left to get the gear. When we got back, Case told us Sheppard had been recalled to Atlantis and sent us through. But once we got here, the gate shut down before Case joined us. Zelenka told us Sheppard didn't come through either, so we don't know what the hell is going on."

"But what was that about a cliff?"

Alex held his tongue long enough to let Celvano give his report. Then he was going to the platform to join Neglee's team, with or without Lorne's blessing. Celvano flicked a look Alex's way, then took a deep breath.

"Sgt. Weiss believes he may have seen someone at the bottom of the mountain the stargate sits on top of."

"You didn't do anything about it?" Lorne snapped at Alex directly. Alex replied just as sharply.

"I didn't get a good look, sir. I was just rubbernecking when Case shooed me away from the edge and ordered me to return. It was only after we got back that the pieces started to fit."

Lorne shook his head, a fast jerk of confusion, "What pieces?"

"Case, sir. I believe Sgt. Case may have attacked the Colonel, either pushed him off the cliff deliberately or accidently as a result of a fight."

"Those are some serious accusations, Sergeant!" Lorne looked shocked. It didn't help Alex's case any that Hutch and Celvano wouldn't meet the Major's eyes.

"I know, sir. I've seen Sgt. Case lose his temper before. He has been acting strangely in regards to Colonel Sheppard for some time. When he didn't come back with us and we learned that he lied about Sheppard's whereabouts...I just know something's happened. I know what I saw at the bottom of the cliff, though I didn't recognize it at the time. You need a jumper and a medical team."

Alex put every ounce of confidence he could into his voice and held Major Lorne's gaze.

"Do it," came a rumble from somewhere behind Lorne. Alex blinked in surprise when Ronon Dex imposed himself into the circle. He must have followed Lorne up here. Alex held his breath, wondering how the Major would take to being ordered around by someone with the equivalent rank of Captain. Lorne raised an eyebrow and Ronon shrugged. "We went to that planet before. There's nothing dangerous there. If Sheppard's missing, then the Sergeant's story makes sense."

"I still don't like accusing one of our own without more, but there's no reason to doubt your concern, regardless of the details, Weiss. Sending a jumper can't hurt anything."

"There is the storm, sir," Hutch piped up sounding small and nervous. He held out dripping arms. "Can a jumper fly in a hurricane?"

Alex looked at Hutch, stricken. He hadn't thought of that.

"The storm was not expected to reach hurricane strength," Zelenka suddenly piped up from a computer console behind Alex. He'd forgotten the man was around. "But there will still be strong winds. You will need an experienced pilot. I am downloading the recorded weather data now and will relay any new information we discover."

Lorne was nodding, "I'll fly the jumper."

"I'm going," Ronon said. It wasn't a request.

"Why don't you go with Neglee's team on foot. They should be ready in five more minutes. You can look things over while I'm prepping a medevac team on the jumper."

"Got it," Ronon grunted, then was heading down the stairs before Alex could quite get his head around what was happening.

"I'm going, too!" he blurted out at last, trying to sound as confident as Dex.

"You're on the jumper."

Alex hesitated - he really wanted to get back faster, but he bit his lip and nodded. He was pushing his luck as it was with the Major. He watched as Lorne relayed the orders for a jumper team to the communications desk then turned to the gate technician.

"Dial up 404. Since we have to wait for Neglee, let's try to make radio contact while we do."

"Got it," the technician replied, this time sounding cheerful. Alex threw him a glare for good measure, but his pulse was slowing. Lorne was on top of things.

When the 7th chevron was spinning around the flashing gate below, Alex stepped closer to the communications panel, next to Lorne. Hutch and Celvano were looking a little lost and miserable over by the DHD. When the gate groaned, flashed and then fell silent instead of connecting with a burst of energy, all heads turned to the gate tech.

"The gate didn't make a connection. I'll try it again."

This time the tension was a bit thicker when the chevrons spun and locked. Zelenka was typing madly on the laptop, the only sound in the control room besides the singing stargate. Again the gate groaned, blinked and fell silent.

"The problem's not on our end," the tech confirmed, slapping panels.

"Is busy!" exclaimed Zelenka. "The error from the buffers indicates that the destination gate is already active with another connection. We cannot go until stargate on 404 shuts down again."

Alex reached for the railing and gripped it hard.

"Case," he whispered to himself. "Damn you."

* * *

Running hurt like hell. John forced one foot in front of another, anyway. He'd stopped after the first three steps and re-adjusted his sling. By tightening his belt around his chest and arm above the elbow, it worked more like an immobilizer. The arm was locked to his side, but he couldn't move it anyway and it jostled less as he ran. A little less, anyway. And he wasn't so much running as staggering quickly over uneven rock and gravel.

Every few meters he would shoot a nervous look at the horizon on his left as he followed the beach south along the granite wall. It was a bizarre view. Water wasn't supposed to roll and dip like a pretty Irish landscape. Sea level wasn't supposed to be higher than the ground you were standing on. The water was over his ankles and lapped against the rising rock on his right. Every step splashed and crunched.

He needed to get to higher ground. And to do that, he had to get around the east side of the island first. He forced himself to go a little faster, mapping the island in his head as he went. It was longer from east to west than it was north to south, with the east facing cliff jutting out of the ocean sharply and then sloping back down to the west. From the air it had looked something like a creature poking its head above the endless sea. The island was really not much bigger than Atlantis. Usually. It was quite a bit smaller than even that at the moment.

When the slope at his right shoulder tapered off from a vertical wall to a slope more like a playground slide, John began to look for a path in the rock that he could climb. The water on the part of beach he was jogging was up to his shins now. Not only was it alarming, it was slowing him down. An ancient rockslide tumbled over the beach in his path, cutting out a groove in the hillside and offering the best chance he'd had yet. Still squinting in the relentless rain, he put his foot on the rock and started to scramble up.

It was slippery and wet, and like the wall he'd slid down, rivers of water were pouring through the rocks like a mountain stream. His poncho kept catching the whipping wind; it flapped around his waist and threw him off balance. He'd made it maybe ten meters up the slope when his foot slipped and he skidded back down several feet on his knees and left elbow. He sat down hard to stop the slide. Disgusted, he jammed his hand under the poncho to slap his radio.

"This is Sheppard. Is anyone there? Come in? Sheppard to anyone in reception range, please respond."

Surely someone had figured out that something was amiss. Surely he'd trained his people well enough that no one would consider two teammates off world alone to be acceptable.

"STOP calling yourself that!" came a voice John didn't want to hear. Calculated risk.

"I am Sheppard." John kept saying it, hoping it might eventually sink in.

"No one's coming," Case said, and the cold chuckle in his voice sent a shiver down John's back. "I dialed the gate. It'll be active for another thirty minutes. That will be enough time."

_To do what? _ John wondered, but didn't ask. "Sergeant, this island is going to be flooded in less than an hour. Maybe sooner. We both need to get off this planet. Dial Atlantis and call for evac. I'll go to the infirmary, have Beckett check me out, head to toe. I promise. Maybe he just missed something before." It was a promise he was quite willing to keep - his arm and fingers were numb and whole right quadrant was a hot, throbbing lump attached to his neck.

The channel went dead with another squawk.

"Great."

John sighed, turned his face uphill again and began to climb. His hand and knees burned from constant scraping against jagged rocks. His thighs began to tremble as his injuries sapped energy and left him struggling to do what should have been easy. He knew he was still high on adrenaline and shock - the good kind, the kind that kept you alive for a while so you could get out of a bad spot. He needed to find a way home before the bad kind took hold. He glanced down to check on the tide, then sucked in a fast breath.

"Holy...cow," he whispered. Another jolt of adrenaline charged him up and he felt his hands shaking. The water had risen with a sudden surge and the beach he'd stood on only ten minutes ago was completely gone. The swirling waves lapped against the rock wall only a few meters below him, nearly half the distance he'd already climbed. A quick, involuntary glance at the horizon sent him scrambling up the slope and over the lip of the rock slide to flatter ground.

Even standing at the top, the wall of water rolling towards him like a slow barge seemed high. John spun once to get his bearings, then pushed himself forward. The Stargate was almost directly over uphill to the north, but the terrain at the top of the eastern cliffs was too steep, rocky, and unsecure. He had to circle further south and come at the gate from the southwest.

As he reached the first of the palm trees that ringed the island in a strange green donut, his radio hissed, squealed, then cackled with Case's voice.

"You made it to the treeline. Impressive. Whatever you are made of is tough stuff. You must be an advanced clone of some sort. With healing properties, which makes sense because I've suspected all along that you were planted by that Wraith you forced us to release."

John froze in his tracks and felt his gun arm twitch. It took a bit of twisting, but he managed to unholster his M9 with his left hand and held it awkwardly in front of him, sparing enough thought to wonder if it had been compromised in the time he'd been lying in the water. There were scuffs and dents in the butt and a few drips of water oozing out the barrel, but the cartridge in the loop of his holster had been even more exposed than the one loaded in the gun. He tugged his knife into left-handed reach for good measure.

"How -?" he began, but Case interrupted.

"You left Sheppard's scanner on top."

"I'M..." John began, then gave up. "What now, Sergeant? Have you looked at that ocean lately? Personally, I thought the Titanic movie was overrated, so I'm not interested in re-creating the scene where we go down with the ship."

John began a slow circle, looking for any sign of Case. If the sergeant was following him on the scanner, he was at a serious disadvantage. It was damn hard to see anything. The rain was so whipped by wind, the drops splintered into a misty, opaque fog. John's poncho flapped in the constant wind.

"Now? I kill you."

John caught a flicker of motion out of the corner of his eye and dropped like a rock. The impact of his shoulders against ground yanked a cry from his throat. He felt his face flush with pain and sweat mingled with the constant water slapping against his exposed face. The edges of his vision blacked out for a second and he fought to concentrate on staying focused. Staying conscious.

The muted retort of Case's shot was immediately lost in the roar of the wind, but John saw the tree trunk that had been directly behind his head splinter very clearly.

John lay for a moment longer, then forced himself to lift his head far enough to spot Case. His whole body shook as torn muscle was stretched and broken bone jostled. A moan stuck low in his throat, but he held still. He could just barely see a floppy hat, peering around another tree nearly thirty meters away. Damn. The kid was an excellent shot. In this wind and weather and terrain, he wasn't sure he could have made as accurate a hit himself from that distance.

Still on the ground, John scanned the perimeter. He was pretty screwed. He was downhill from Case and while there were trees and jumbles of rocks, cover didn't mean a whole lot if Case could just follow him on the scanner and wait for another shot. Fear started to mix with adrenaline.

"Come _on_, John," he whispered, fiercely. "You're one of the best field operatives in the Stargate program!" He spoke the words as sarcastically as he was thinking them. Case was bigger, stronger (especially with a hole in him and a busted shoulder), and (see aforementioned busted shoulder) a better shot.

There was another flicker of motion. John spotted Case trying to skulk nearer. John propped his left hand on a rock and fired two rounds back up the hill. The bullets went wild, but at least the gun had fired. Case darted back behind a tree. Momentary standoff. There was a rustle behind him. Wired into combat mode, John jerked his head around - stifling another yelp.

There was nothing there except - John felt himself begin to pant, his chest heaving over painful, gulps of air - nothing except a creeping line of water, oozing through the rocks and palm trees, clinking pebbles together. The waterline was almost like a living thing, hissing as it devoured the island whole.

"I'm. Going. To kill. Zelenka," he spat, literally spewing drops as his lips moved. Water was pouring out of the sky like it had been dumped from a bucket.

"CASE!" he yelled, half through the radio and half directly up the hill. "This island is going down! We need to get off. NOW!"

"Not until I finish. I won't let the Colonel down. He will be avenged."

"Gees, who talks like that?" John muttered. _Psychotic nutters who think I've been replaced by a clone, is who, apparently._ _Too bad that part about keeping me alive for "extraction" from an evil host didn't work out_. Wait a minute...

With one last glance up the hill to make sure Case was staying put, John wriggled until he could shuck off his poncho. He immediately shivered, but shoved the chill aside. Next he drew his knife and cut a long slit in the upper arm of his right jacket sleeve. It took a bit more concentration to cut through the layers of shirt underneath with a shaking awkward hand, but in relatively short time, he'd managed to expose his upper arm.

He shot another glance at Case, saw him moving again and put another couple rounds into the environment to make him think twice about it. Getting panicky, he rubbed his arm where he remembered the sting of his subcutaneous transmitter going in. Once he'd found the very slight bump, he snatched for his knife again, flipped the blade until he thought he had the right angle, then nicked a long slit in the back of his arm without a pause for thought or worry.

John growled as blood started to mingle with the rain saturating his flesh. He dug into the slippery, wet scratch, feeling for the watch-battery sized transmitter. Crimson streaked his pale skin, but he managed to work out the tiny device and held it between blood smeared fingers. His hand started to shake even harder as he set it into the folds of his crumpled up poncho.

When he peeked up the hill one last time, a bullet zinged into the rock pile he was lying behind. Chips flew and he jerked when one stung his cheek. John fought the instinct to return fire, grabbed for the radio transmitter instead.

"Case! Wait, I...give up. I surrender." He rolled, dug his toes into the ground for a fast start. There were no more bullets from up the hill so Case was listening. John went on, not having to fake weariness and desperation, "You were right. I've been pretending I'm Sheppard since Kolya and his pet wraith kidnapped him. You got me."

"If you surrender, then stand up and take your bullet."

"No, wait. See, you didn't get everything right. Sheppard's still in here. He's...screaming his head off at the moment, but he's still here." John shuddered a little. Using his experience from the other side of things as Thalen's mind-hostage was creeping him out a little. "I'm going to give him up. I'm leaving him right here. If you want to get your Colonel off this island, then you should come get him before he drowns."

"The...the Colonel is alive? He's...still there?" Case was sounding hesitant again, which John took as a good sign.

"Yeah. He's um...really proud of you, too. He knows how hard you've tried to save him." The words tasted sick coming out of his mouth, but John's one chance to get to higher ground, and maybe even to the stargate before Case, depended on the thirty seconds he could gain by playing on Case's warped sense of loyalty.

"I'm going to save him," Case's voice was cold again.

"Then come get him. If you waste time coming after me, he'll die. Check your scanner. He's right here. I'm leaving."

With that, John launched himself to his feet, staggered for a few steps, then pumped cover fire into the hill when Case took the shot John knew he would. Five of his remaining twelve bullets sparked against rock and tree trunks. The sixth choked with a muffled pop and there was no recoil. John instantly ceased firing and gulped. That sound meant a squib was likely lodged in the barrel; probably, water in the cartridge had been marinating the powder since his nap in the surf. His gun was now not only useless, but a damn hazard to fire. He took his finger off the trigger, grit his teeth and sprinted southwest, following the curve of the island. His ankles rolled over the uneven ground. Within a few meters, he was splashing in water again, the M9 cleared and jammed back into its holster, worthless.

If Case had done as he suggested, if he'd been watching the scanner when John bolted, he'd see his life sign split into two - one genuine life sign, one blue dot from the subcutaneous transmitter. The trick wouldn't have fooled Rodney for a second, but he was betting on Case's delusion and lack of training. If John was lucky, Case wouldn't be able to pass up the chance to rescue his hero, Sheppard, and would waste time running to the blue dot before he set out after John again.

He made it another meter, then ten without pursuing gunfire. John turned up hill, sliding again on the rocks, but desperate to get to high ground. The hissing water line seemed almost to be nipping at his heels as he ran in and out of the highest eddies while dodging tree trunks. The funky palm trees were dense at this point on the island and a tiny seed of hope sprang in John's chest. They were thickest at the top of the mountain.

Another sudden surge flung a wave against the back of John's legs, and he stumbled forward to find himself up to his good elbow in frothing water. He grabbed for a tree branch when the wave washed back downhill with the force of a riptide, pulling rocks and John with it. His shoulder screamed at him, leaving him breathless once he'd fought himself to his feet. Still pulling on tree trunks to drag himself along, John doggedly climbed upwards.

His radio squawked. "You're dead," was all Case said before the channel closed.

That was all he was going to get. John had gained the higher ground, Case was no longer between him and the gate, and he had a ninety second head start.

He climbed at a slight angle to the southwest, keeping a mental map of the island in the foreground of his mind. Case would try to cut him off. He had to get to the top first. Another surge soaked him to his hips, but he kept upright, kept climbing. His breath was becoming a ragged growl. Wind pushed at him from one side, water from the other. Above him the wide palm branches were flapping wildly in the gale, churning the rain over his head like chopper blades.

His focus zeroed into the single step in front of him. He knew he should be watching the perimeter more closely, but turning his head was like slamming a hammer into his collarbone. He had to get to the top or it wouldn't matter anyway. His foot slipped, and he flung his arm but found no tree to hang onto. When a second step got him no further, he snapped out of the stupor he'd fallen into and squinted through the rain above him. There was about fifty yards of smooth rock, bare of trees and nothing but grey sky beyond.

He'd reached the crown! He didn't know exactly where, but beyond the curve of the horizon just above him was the DHD and the Stargate.

He took one step towards the top, then he was hit from the side by a thousand pound buffalo. He screamed when he hit the uneven ground shoulder first and kicked out, responding to no instinct but pure agony. Case was scrabbling at his belt and John felt tugging on his holster. He writhed even harder when Case's elbow dug into the gunshot wound as they wrestled. His wild flailing finally managed to roll Case off, who tumbled a few feet down hill into the trees. John shoved his heels against the ground and dug his scraped palm against the slimy rock, still trying to heave himself upward, still groaning with each wave of internal pain. Water poured from the sky across his body like he was lying under the spray of a fire hose.

Case rolled with a neat tuck, stood up and pointed his M9A1 at John's face. John froze, gasping, his heart racing. He looked around wildly, daring to hope for someone to help him, something to appear that he could use. When his gaze fell on the eastern horizon, his hope faded completely. The wall of water he'd watched earlier loomed over the island, visible now even over the nearest trees.

He looked back at Case, his mouth working around a cry of alarm, but nothing came out. Case just looked at him, his face blank, his eyes almost sad. Behind him the water was visibly rising to lap at his heels. If Case didn't get him, that wall of water would. John felt himself relax. If he was going to go out, he was going to go out calm, defiant. He had practice at this. For an instant, Case looked like Kolya.

There were no last words.

Only last regrets.


	5. Chapter 5

Alex sat fidgeting on the middle step of the gateroom watching the lights spin around the ring of the stargate. There was a crunch as each chevron locked, then a groan when the 7th failed to lock. The step underneath him was wet and he shivered constantly, but the discomfort went unacknowledged. Six crunches and a groan. Over and over. Neglee's team stood in a clump just off the platform down below, chatting and joking around.

When Hutch and Celvano came down the stairs from above, Alex just stared ahead.

"Dude, you look like a drowned rat."

Hutch and Celvano were a lot drier. They'd changed their pants and jackets at least, but Alex had only taken the time to hit the armory and check out his M16. He clutched the rifle lying across his lap in a tight grip. There was something comforting about the weapon's bulk and familiarity. Marines cut their teeth on the favored weapon and Alex had taken to it like a bear to honey.

"Weiss, this is not your fault," Celvano said suddenly after a moment of careful scrutiny. Alex shook his head.

"I should have seen it. I should have told someone Case was nuts."

"We're all nuts in one way or another," Hutch interjected. He sounded like he was trying really hard to be cheerful. "And besides, we don't know what really happened. Maybe Case and Sheppard are having a picnic and a hearty old laugh at our expense back on that damned planet. In the rain. In a typhoon..." Hutch trailed off.

"Then why did he lie to us? I should never have left that damn island. I should have checked out the bottom of the cliff first. I should have seen that Case was acting freaky."

"Freakier than usual?" There was an edge in Celvano's question. Alex bit his lip.

"Not exactly. He's always been goofy about Sheppard. Since I bunked with him on the Daedalus. I just thought he was being more weird because the Colonel was along with us."

"Then stop your moaning. If Case really has flipped, it's no one's damn fault but his own. Honestly, I still don't really buy the whole 'Case is after the Colonel' thing." Celvano rasied his hand when Alex puffed up to protest, "But if you're right, then YOU are the one who called it. You're the one who has pushed to speed up search and rescue. You're the one who talked the Major into adding air and medical support."

"Oh, crap. If I'm wrong, I'm in deep shit." The realization hit Alex like a slap of cold water.

"Are you wrong?"

"I...I don't know."

"And if you're right?"

"Then I'm going to kill that son of a bitch Case," the ferocity in his answer surprised even him. Another thought froze him from the inside out - _holy shit, what if I really have to fire on Case? What if I have to shoot one of my own? _Despite his anger and his tough talk, the thought was incredibly disturbing.

Celvano just nodded, looking thoughtful. Six more crunches and a groan passed by.

"Major Lorne! You need to see this right away."

Alex jerked his head to the control room where the shout had come from. He leaped to his feet and, again trailing a skeptical Hutch and Celvano, shoved his way past the techs to stand beside Zelenka. The frizzy-haired scientist was still waving at Lorne and a moment later, Alex was boxed in by not only the Major, but Dr. McKay and Dr. Weir as well. Ronon stood just to one side, arms crossed, looming like some kind of bouncer. Alex suppressed a cringe when Ronon's gaze raked over him, then passed on.

"Radek are you sure you know how to -"

Zelenka swatted McKay's hands away from the keyboard he was sitting at and Alex leaned in as the Czech began talking very fast.

"I have been skimming the data from the sensors brought back from 404. There is a bit of very disturbing information you need to be aware of, Major, if you are still planning to return there."

"What is it? Is the storm gotten worse? Is Sheppard stuck there in the middle of a hurricane?"

Alex couldn't help throwing an annoyed look at McKay who seemed determined to interrupt. He regretted the glare almost instantly as he realized that the man still looked pale and pinched, still recovering from his own wounds during Sheppard's last mission, and that his expression was all nervous worry.

"No, the storm is still progressing as expected. What -"

"Then what could possibly be so alarming?"

Zelenka - lips clenched into a line of restraint - just slapped a few keys, pointed at the screen and said, "The tides." When McKay stayed silent, engrossed in the data, Zelenka continued. "The tides on this planet are influenced by two moons that have a very unusual synchronized 2:1 orbit at this point in their history. As they circle 404, every two rotations, both moons line up and create an extreme amplitude every two months. The island the Colonel Sheppard is still presumably on is in the hemisphere of the planet that is most affected."

"What does that mean, exactly, doc? Weiss, here, already told us they had noticed high tides. So what if the beach is gone? Means less island to search." Lorne was looking grumpy and unimpressed.

"The _island_ will be gone. I have not run all the numbers but my estimate is that, during this cycle of the tides, the island will end up more than fifty meters underwater."

"For how long?" This was from Dr. Weir. Alex could almost see her concern go into high gear as everyone shuffled with alarm. It was McKay who answered, having successfully squirmed his hands onto Zelenka's keyboard.

"Days."

"When?" Lorne asked

"When will the tide cover the island? It's difficult to say with precision, within the next several hours certainly. If the planet's water mass bulges as it is pulled on by the moons, a tidal surge or tsunami like wave could be created. It could rise very suddenly anytime."

There was a beat of silence and Alex looked at Lorne, needing the reassurance of command. Surprisingly, it was Dr. Weir who spoke first.

"I'd rather not send a team on foot under those conditions, Major. If the stargate is acting strangely and they need to leave the planet quickly, I don't want them to be caught without backup."

"I was thinking the same thing," Lorne answered. He tapped his radio headpiece. "Neglee, your team will join us in the jumper. Foot travel is unadvised at destination. Head up to the jumper bay."

"Understood."

Alex could hear Neglee's reply from the pocket in his vest - he still had his speaker turned on. Lorne waved at him, drawn by the noise. "Go dry off, Weiss. Jumper's full after all. We'll take it from here."

Alex stiffened but was promptly pushed back by the press of people all suddenly moving at the same time. Down below the stargate crunched six times, then groaned. They'd been waiting for nearly half an hour. Whatever the cause, the gate would most likely open, if it was going to, within the next ten minutes as it hit the 38 minute mark. Alex jostled, shoved and generally barged his way into Lorne's path.

"Permission to speak, sir!" he bellowed, startling Lorne and Ronon who stood at his side.

"Stand down, Sergeant," Lorne said when he'd recovered, looking amused. Alex felt his face flush with embarrassment, then heat with frustration when Lorne added, "Jumper's full."

"But sir, this is my fault. I should have figured out that Case was flipping out. If the Colonel's in trouble, I have to fix it. I have to know what is going on."

"That's a lot of haftas, Sergeant. I'm sorry, but -"

"Let him come."

By the look on the Major's face, Ronon's interruption was as unexpected to him as it was to Alex. His brow's-up gape of befuddlement seemed to amuse Ronon in turn, prompting a regular speech from the guy Alex had only heard say four or five words at a time.

"It's the sergeant's mission. They started it, they need to finish it. Even more so if their teammate is missing." Lorne glared for another beat, Ronon stared him down, then added, "I'll take them."

Alex twitched, not feeling like he needed babysitting, then realized what Ronon had really said: in his strange, terse way, Ronon had just put Alex on his team for the mission.

"I can show you where I think I saw the Colonel last," he threw in, hoping to pad the deal.

Ronon rumbled in approval and Lorne looked Alex up and down before giving him a serious nod. "Ok. You and the rest of your team gear up and report to Ronon in the jumper bay. If we get a lock, it will be in the next ten minutes and I want to be on the platform when we do!"

"Yes, sir!" Alex snapped. He lifted his M16, turned to Ronon. "Sgt. Alex Weiss reporting as ordered, sir." To his surprise, Hutch and Celvano stepped quickly forward and announced their readiness as well. He hadn't noticed before that they'd upgraded and were also toting their rifles.

"If they get to go, I do, too!" Dr. McKay shoved past and planted himself in front of Lorne who looked like a man trying really hard not to roll his eyes.

"Listen, people. A jumper holds ten people. Ten! We've already got eight and since we're going looking for two more, I'm kindof thinking the math doesn't work here."

McKay looked around him. "I only see six of us."

"Plus a medical team of two and a co-pilot are waiting in the bay."

"Oh, well, I'll be your co-pilot. You can dismiss whoever it is." McKay shrugged and relaxed like it had already been decided.

"McKay," Lorne's voice went gritty, "We're flying into a tropical depression. I need a co-pilot who can handle extreme flight conditions and provide tactical support."

"I can do that. Plus I can also fix Ancient Technology. If the gate is staying active because of a malfunction or technical issue, you'll need me. Can your co-pilot do _that_?"

Alex held his breath wondering whether the Major was going to explode or start crying. Sheppard's habit of relying on civilians for mission support was spoken of with awe and often with disgust. Alex understood how dealing constantly with people outside the efficient chain of command could get extremely annoying. If he hadn't just stepped on a lot of toes himself, he might have rolled his own eyes at the arrogant scientist from Sheppard's team. Instead, he just kept hearing Case say, "That's why he's so good out here. He's a rogue. Not afraid to bend the rules, find creative solutions."

Alex was seeing that creative bending in action. And, to his credit, Lorne went thoughtful, gave McKay the same appraising look and nodded his approval a second time. "Hit the jumper, McKay. I'll need serious support on wind management."

"I'll go link the jumper's external sensors into the inertial dampener sub-routines and main drive. I should be able to program some automatic compensation for wind sheer."

McKay turned and headed up the stairs. Lorne looked pleased and surprised at the same time as he watch him go. Alex shot a look at Ronon who waved them up the stairs as well. When he found himself jogging beside Celvano, he threw a grateful grin his way.

"I thought you didn't believe me," he said. Celvano grinned back.

"I don't. But I do want to know _what_ the hell is going on. And to see you get your ass chewed if you're wrong."

"I'm not wrong. I can feel it," Alex retorted and this time his conviction was firm. The knot of anxiety returned.

They had just reached the back of the jumper and were waiting for Lorne to dismiss Neglee and the temporary co-pilot when the squawk of radios drowned out all other conversation.

"Flight to Major Lorne, we have a lock on 404. The stargate is active and waiting for your departure."

"Finally!" Lorne muttered. "Let's get this show on the road."

There was a last, mad hustle as they piled into the jumper. Lorne was in the pilot's seat and had the rear hatch rising of the bay floor before Alex had even figured out where to sit. He was about to park his butt in the back when Ronon grabbed his shoulder and shoved him into the front compartment. He was plopped into the seat behind McKay at the co-pilot's console.

Grey wall scrolled by the windshield as Lorne lowered the jumper into the gateroom. Alex felt his insides twist with that familiar combination of fear and excitement. Lorne checked his console, threw McKay a warning look.

"I'm going to take it through quickly so our front half doesn't get pushed around at the other end waiting for the back half to join it."

"I've got a program running that will help compensate for sudden gusts of wind. It may make the controls feel sluggish, though, so don't attempt any quick maneuvers."

"Got it. Leaving in three...two...one."

The jumper leaped at the shimmering event horizon and Alex felt the cool sensation of being split in to energy then reassembled. The windshield went immediately opaque with a blast of rain, almost like they'd emerged underwater.

"McKay," Lorne began, but McKay interrupted.

"Compensating for visibility with the HUD. You're seeing a digital version of the landscape so it's grainy, but these things don't come with windshield wipers so it's the best we've got."

"Oh, hey! I didn't know it could do that." Lorne exclaimed when the screen flashed and an almost perfect image of the view from the jumper was overlaid on top of the real glass.

McKay chuffed, and Alex caught the edges of his smirk. "I'll bet your other co-pilot didn't know that either. Bringing up life signs detector."

They were hovering just beyond the stargate over what should have been the clifftop. Every now and then, the scene would slide suddenly in one direction or another and Alex guessed that it was the wind pushing the jumper around. The rain on the real window was certainly slapping in swirling, random gusts. Thing was, there was no cliff. Whitecapped waves crashed against the very top of the stargate's mountain. Every third or fourth would surge over the top onto the flat rock and Alex looked out at the horizon in alarm.

"Sir! The wave!" He found himself grabbing for the back of McKay's seat and throwing a hand at the ocean in front of them. Just beyond what was left of the island, a huge wave was rolling slowly towards them, higher even than the jumper now hovered.

"I see it. McKay do you see our people! We've got about fifteen minutes if I'm judging that tsunami right."

"This plateau will be underwater sooner than that," McKay muttered, poking furiously at the console in front of him. "I've got two life signs one hundred meters at our 5 o'clock. I'm getting a faint third signal from Sheppard's subdermal transmitter, but it's location is...underwater? Wait!" McKay slapped harder at his console, then turned a stricken look at Lorne. Alex felt a sick lump of foreboding as McKay finished, his voice strangled. "There's no life signs readings in the same location as the transmitter."

Lorne slapped his own console, "Colonel Sheppard this is Major Lorne in jumper two, come in. Do you read? Sergeant Case, please respond."

There was a beat of deadly silence.

"We should put the jumper down," Ronon said, as close to a polite request as Alex had ever seen the man get. Lorne jerked his head in approval and Ronon followed the gesture with a bellow. "Weiss, Hutch, Celvano - we're going out." Ronon bellowed.

"Just hurry. That water is rising fast. Much higher and this thing will float off the mountain," Lorne added.

Alex scrambled to the back, pulling on a brimmed hat (having ditched the ponchos). He had to grab for the overhead netting when the jumper bumped against the rock, then slid abruptly to one side with a massive gust of wind.

"Sorry! Lorne yelled. Be careful, it's damn windy out there. Watch for flying debris."

It was a logical warning, but Alex just threw a look at Ronon and forced out a response.

"There's nothing on this island to fly. I didn't see a single stick or downed leaf, so unless the wind can carry rock, we just have to worry about the wind pushing us around. Sir..." his voice caught in his throat. "I saw Sheppard or...someone at the bottom of that cliff and now it's completely underwater. If his transmitter is underwater..." _Then I'm too late. We're too late! _He wanted to scream.

"There are two life signs," Ronon grunted by way of answer. His expression was one of determination rather than grief. Alex struggled to find the same optimism in the circumstances, failed, then settled on fury. If one of those remaining signs was Case...

Ronon yanked on the hatch release. The roar of wind and rain pounding on rock immediately filled the little ship. The two medics scooched along the benches to get further away from the widening opening that let almost as much rain and wind in as outside. Almost.

Alex was first out the hatch after the ramp touched rock, and he almost landed on his ass. He was soaked within three seconds and had to windmill his arms then lock his feet into a groove to keep from getting blown over.

He waited impatiently for Ronon, Hutch and Celvano to make it down the ramp, then sprinted around the stargate, across the rock towards the opposite slope at Ronon's signal. He knew the top of this hill. If Case and Sheppard were where McKay said they were, that would put them down the back side.

They were passing the DHD when a flicker of light caught his attention and he spun to instinctively face the oddity. Ronon twisted to watch too as the DHD blinked and symbols started to flash around the stargate as well.

"Who the hell is dialing the gate?" Hutch screamed, only barely heard over the wind even then.

"Maybe Lorne wants us to be able to go back on foot if we need to," Celvano guessed and it was a good one. Alex filed the information away and then promptly ignored the gate. He only cared about Case and Sheppard. Every step he jogged to the place where the crown started to slope downward brought a tighter sense of dread.

At the edge, he skidded to a stop, swept his gaze from east to west, squinting in the driving rain. A slight motion drew his eye. Alex strained even harder to make out the blobs and shapes he was seeing below. His mind fought to process the scene - Two men at Alex's 10 o'clock. One standing, one on his back against the bottom of the rocky slope. The one standing aiming a hand weapon at the one on the ground. Case. He recognized, now, the man's build and floppy hat. With a combined jolt of relief and terror, he suddenly knew that the prone man was Sheppard.

"Shit!" Alex cursed to himself.

With a speed even he didn't know he possessed, he readied his M16, flipped off the safeties, flung the butt against his shoulder and relaxed his stance into the firing position he'd learned in hours and hours of practice. The wind howled and whipped at his shoulder, but he compensated with tiny adjustments of his body.

A flash of red sizzled down the hill and a small part of Alex's mind realized that Ronon had taken a shot and missed. It was a 50 meter shot. At the far end of accuracy for the energy weapon, Alex guessed if its range was anything like most hand weapons. But not for the M16.

Case jerked his face up and Alex could see him realize that he'd been caught.

Alex took a breath, let it slowly go, then held it. Wind, rain, cold, everything slid away except Case who was square in his sights. Dead square. _Don't be an idiot. Put your gun down. Please. Please put your gun down. Don't make me shoot you. _Alex chanted the plea in his head. Ronon bellowed a command. Hutch and Celvano started skidding down the hill, rushing closer to do whatever they thought they were supposed to do. Alex ignored it all. Water dripped off the barrel, but it didn't worry him. He trusted his weapon.

Even from this distance, Alex could see Case's face twist into fury, and then calm with decision. The pistol in his hand snapped up from where he'd let it droop. Another flare of red stabbed out. Case leaned into his aim.

And Alex took the shot.

* * *

John lay in the pouring rain looking at a kid who wanted to kill him. It was only a little comfort to know that the sick kid thought he was something else.

A red streak flashed past Case's shoulder and John blinked, trying to figure out what had happened. When Case jerked his head at the top of the hill, John's hope returned in a surge. They'd made it! He'd held on long enough for the cavalry to arrive. Or Ronon at least.

With renewed energy, John shoved back and up again, twisting just enough to see four blurry blobs standing at the top of the hill. A bellow drifted down to them, Ronon ordering Case to stand down. John's heart beat faster. That hadn't worked so far. He shoved away harder.

Case's expression went pissed and then utterly calm with a resignation that was terrifying.

"Case! Don't do it! Let them help us!" John screamed. But Case just lifted his gun, leaned into his aim.

There was a muffled crack and John jumped, tweaking his shoulder. Case's gun hand was flung back with an unnatural twist. John had about a second to relax when Case spun with the force of the bullet that had smashed against the pistol in his hand and knocked it away. He lunged for John instead. Another crack and Case screamed. His leg went out from under him and John saw blood splatter from his hip. The drops were quickly washed away in the downpour.

John rolled over to scramble further away. His knees ground against gritty rock and his left palm was bloody. Water streaming down the hill splashed in his eyes, blinding him for a moment. He felt Case land heavily across his legs and kicked, but Case was heavy and the ground was slick. With a savage yank, Case pulled John back and up by the loop on his vest. The pressure against his destroyed shoulder ground broken bone against already abused nerves. The flash of agony shorted out everything but the screaming in his right side and he coughed out a broken gasp.

"Stay back!" Case screamed in his ear. John felt something bounce against his temple and forced his eyes open. He had to blink water off his lashes before anything came back into focus.

John was sagging in Case's grip, a bulky arm wrapped tightly around his throat. John was on his knees and could feel Case's knee digging into his back. The kid was damn tough, John admitted grudgingly. He'd taken a graze, at least, to the thigh and was still upright with enough strength to keep John tightly held. In front of him, John saw Ronon, Celvano and Hutch turn into statues halfway down the rocky crown.

"Stand down, Case," John croaked for the hundredth time. "You're outnumbered. Stand down and let's figure this out back home."

"No. They need to see. They need to understand."

There was an ominous scrape at John's right ear, then Case passed himself the grenade he'd just armed. John froze even stiffer, suddenly terrified of jostling the arm Case was holding the spoon down with. He felt more shifting, and the gun was back against his head. Wait, Case's gun had just gone flying. Where had he gotten this one? John turned slightly, then glanced down at his holster. His empty holster. Case must have snagged John's M9 when they wrestled. He twisted even further and his heart ratcheted up another gear - Case had loaded it with a fresh cartridge.

"Case, my gun's got a squib in the barrel. You can't -" he finished with a squawk as Case squeezed his neck, choking out the rest of his words.

"No more lying. I'm tired of the lying."

John sagged further until Case let up enough for him to see straight again. Up the hill, Ronon and Hutch were taking slow cautious steps, their weapons also aimed at John. Well, he hoped they were aimed at Case, but it looked damn scary from John's POV.

"Stop!" Case screamed again and the men stopped, looking more cautious than intimidated. Case had created a hell of a stalemate here. If they shot him, he'd lose the grenade and both of them would go boom. Water swirled at John's knees, tugging and pushing at him with each slosh higher. In this game, stalemate was a loss – they'd all drown if they just waited around for something to happen.

"How do I prove I am Sheppard," he asked suddenly, turning and yelling enough to be heard over the wind.

"You can't. You're not." Case's words were a low growl against his ear.

The wind howled as an uneasy idea slowly began to form in John's mind. It was the kind of idea that never surfaced until one was well and truly screwed; the kind of idea where the worst that could happen was only slightly better than what was _definitely_ going to happen - but sometimes, slightly better was enough. A wave surged around John's thighs, immersing him almost to his hips.

"If I'm not Sheppard, then what am I?"

"You're a threat to Atlantis, to the Pegasus mission."

John thought for another moment. He couldn't resist. "And what would Colonel Sheppard do if he was here?"

"He would eliminate the threat. He would defend Atlantis. He would destroy the enemy at any cost."

_No, he would be trying to get everyone home alive, and preferably undamaged_, he thought somewhat ruefully. What he said was, "Then you have to kill me. But not like this. If I'm going to eat a bullet, I want to see the man who defeated me." _I want to get you away from me so Ronon can take a shot_, was what he was really thinking.

Case didn't answer and John twisted, trying to see the kid's face. Ronon and Hutch were creeping closer again. The grip on his neck tightened and John realized his mistake. Case didn't need the gun.

"I'm defending Atlantis. Like Sheppard did," Case whispered.

The pressure against John's windpipe crushed the airway closed and he gulped like a goldfish on a sidewalk until panic kicked in. He began to struggle and thrash. He clawed at Case's arm with both hands. His shoulder shrieked with each motion. Case's bulky arm just closed tighter. John's vision greyed out again and there was a frightening black edge to the fuzziness. There was shouting and cursing, but John couldn't understand the words, only that they sounded angry, frightened.

When John began to sink under his own weight, his muscles twitching and relaxing as they ran out of oxygen, Case extended his gun arm towards the hill where Hutch and Ronon had been descending and braced the hand with the grenade onto it, tightening his hold around John's neck. Sparks flew into John's vision as Case's arm rested on his busted shoulder. The dark ring swallowed up more of his vision with alarming speed.

More shouting.

John thought he heard Ronon's voice, louder and closer. Case screamed something back and John could feel the sergeant's body tense, preparing to fire.

"NO!" he screamed. At least he wanted to scream. There was no air to voice the shriek in his mind.

A deafening bang punctured John's ears just before a jolt slammed Case backwards. Hot sparks peppered his face and a sharper sting pierced John's left side, just below his vest at the same moment. They both fell backwards and finally, finally! Case's arm slid off his throat.

The arm that had a frag grenade attached to the end of it.

John couldn't see, everything was blurry, and the sting in his belly was rapidly growing into a ferocious ache. He sucked down a great, ragged gulp of sweet air, and twisted as they tumbled and splashed into the waves behind them, reaching for Case's arm. His hearing came back to him in a rush and he realized that Case was screaming in pain. He blinked and his vision cleared a little with a rush of adrenaline.

Case's face was a bloody mess. A dozen rivulets of blood were streaming down his face with the rain. As John continued to twist - the motion almost flowing in slow motion - he saw the grenade slip out of Case's hand and plop gently under the frothy, swirling water a few inches from his outstretched hand.

_Shit! _

John ended up on top of Case who was still screaming. Case went under for a second, then managed to get his head up, spluttering. John grabbed Case's vest at the armpits with both hands, his right elbow still tied to his side. With a heave even he was surprised by, he threw himself away from the grenade, rolling Case along with him, then over him, then further down the hill.

His head went under the swirling water as Case rolled over him, then he broke the surface, spitting and still rolling. He got one more roll thanks to the steep slope before a fountain of water exploded out of the waves less than two meters away. John felt a few tiny thuds against the back of his vest, like pebbles falling onto his back, and then the fountain collapsed.

The ache in his gut flared and he curled against the sudden spike of pain through his middle. Case was next to him, writhing and splashing in the foot deep water. A larger wave surged over both of them, and John got a mouthful of water. The coughing fit that followed hurt so bad that John dully realized the tide was now the least of his problems.

Another wave washed over his head and he relaxed, sinking into its gentle sway. He began to float a little, rising off the hard ground below him, rocking in time to the waves of pain within. The water in his ears muffled the roar of the rain and wind and it was quiet for the first time in...forever.

"Sheppard!"

John's face was yanked out of the water and he spluttered, winced when the effort of breathing hurt more than the tugging on his shoulder as someone pulled him further uphill.

"I can't leave you alone for five minutes, can I?" Ronon's rumble was warm and reassuring. John tried to say something, but he was having trouble breathing, so he just twitched his lips into a slight smile and passed out.


	6. Chapter 6

Alex kept his M16 on his shoulder and his front sight post on Case. He didn't have a shot with the Colonel being held into Case's chest and he didn't know what he should do if he got one. Alex had seen Case pull the grenade pin - if he shot Case off, he could still lose the Colonel. The sight post wobbled beyond reasonable specs, and Alex fought to keep his breath steady. His heart was pounding in his chest with fury - at Case for being an idiot, at himself for screwing up the shot he'd had.

Hutch and Ronon were creeping forward, closer to Case and his hostage. He could see in both their postures that they didn't know what to do any more than he did. The Colonel was still moving, but Alex could tell that the arm around his neck wasn't there in a cozy embrace. All Alex could see was Case's head, centered as it was in the front post. He saw the moment when Case, again, decided to kill the Colonel and this time, there wasn't a damn thing Alex could do about it.

He was vaguely aware of Ronon bellowing threats as Sheppard started to struggle harder and claw at Case's arm. He was going to strangle the Colonel standing there in front of them! Alex was going to stand there and watch it happen. Sheppard's frantic flailing grew weaker and he sagged lower in Case's grip. A larger window opened and the M16 dipped, then rose as Alex struggled with the decision.

Could he pop Case in the head and save the Colonel? Or would he just be condemning him to death by grenade if he did? He began to shake a little, remembering the feel of the trigger the last time he'd hit Case. He would never forget the moment that he'd released the bullet and realized that it was intended for one of his own, for one in his own squad, nutball idiot though he was! Could he send the next bullet into Case's brain?

While Alex stood, frozen, Ronon apparently decided to hell with indecision. The Satedan rushed down the hill with a battle cry that Alex could hear even from where he stood, leveling his blaster. Alex wasn't sure what the hell he was thinking - that he could stun both of them and catch the grenade, too, probably. With a leap of hope, Alex wished it to be true.

Case startled at the charge, leveled the M9 in his hand and...then all hell broke loose.

The gun kaboomed in Case's hand with a bang and just a little smoke. Ronon startled and slipped on the slick stone, landing on his back. Case jerked away from the flying debris, then screamed. Sheppard doubled over slightly and they both went backwards, Sheppard twisting as he fell to land chest to chest on top of Case. The grenade slipped out of Case's hand, under the water with an insignificant splash.

Against all sense, Alex screamed a ragged "No!" and lunged down the hill slipping and sliding _towards_ the bomb. With a mighty heave, Sheppard rolled Case over and down the hill, then put his back to the blast, between it and Case, just as a fountain of water gushed upwards. Alex saw a few fragments and pebbles sprinkle the area, then the surface was churned only by wind and rain alone.

Alex kept going, almost skiing down the final few meters. He reached bottom at nearly the same time as Ronon. There was a look of horror on Hutch's face that was echoed on Celvano's. Alex drew his M9 and splashed through the shallow waves until he was on top of a moaning, bloody Case.

He saw Hutch's look of alarm, but his heart was pounding and his head was stuffed too loud with anger to care. He pointed the muzzle at Case's bloody face.

"Give me one reason I shouldn't shoot you in the head, you traitor," Alex snarled.

"Because his dead body would be too heavy to carry," Ronon answered. The man was pulling the Colonel out of the waves to higher ground with a gentleness that was surprising for his ferocious appearance. "Sergeant Weiss, help Celvano get Case up the hill to the jumper."

Alex hesitated, still glaring.

"Weiss? Back off, man, he's down," Celvano shouted, looking more disturbed than angry. He was pulling out a field compress and kneeling beside the writhing Case as he spoke. "We don't have time for this, here."

Alex looked at Case. The man's face was streaked with blood from a dozen places, some of the scratches still imbedded with shrapnel. Celvano was trying to wrap a compress around Case's hand that was glistening red and mangled and Hutch was trying to get one around the gouge in his leg. Alex knew he'd nicked the guy, but he'd not done more than take a chunk of the guy's thigh. Alex dropped his arm, holstered the gun and turned his back on Case. He walked to Ronon and knelt beside the prone and unconscious Sheppard.

"I'll help you get the Colonel to the top. I'm not helping Case."

Ronon looked surprised, then almost impressed. He sent Hutch to Case instead and Alex helped heave Sheppard over Ronon's shoulders.

"Let's move. We'll patch them up in the jumper!" Ronon bellowed and began the arduous climb.

Alex helped by putting his hands on Ronon's belt and shoving him upwards as they struggled uphill. He was halfway up the slope before he threw a glance backwards to make sure that Hutch and Celvano were OK. They had Case slung, limping but conscious, between them, an arm over each shoulder. They'd stripped his vest off, at least. Alex would make sure they had searched for more weapons when they reached the top of the hill.

He'd no sooner finished the thought than making the top became a lot harder. Water began pouring over the edge like the sink had just overflowed. Instead of trickles and rivulets chasing along grooves, an ankle high sheet rushed down the hill like an avalanche. Alex braced himself and held onto Ronon. Every step was an act of will. The rushing torrent pushed at their feet and shins. Ronon stumbled and Alex held on with everything he had to steady the man so he didn't tumble back into the frothing sea below them that was rising higher every second, climbing almost as fast as they were.

When they reached the very edge, Alex's legs were trembling and even the famously indefatigable Ronon was shaking under Alex's hands. He slipped on the rounded edge of the top and went down on his knees. The frothing water was up past his elbows and gritty, salty water splashed in his face and stung his eyes. He slipped ever so slightly back down hill before he felt a firm grip on his arm.

"Come on, sergeant! That's it!"

Alex looked up into the fiercely concerned face of a soaked Major Lorne. Lorne gave him another tug and Alex heaved himself to his feet. Ronon was splashing through knee high water at the top of the Stargate mountain towards the grey blob of the jumper, Sheppard still secure on his shoulders, so Alex turned back with Lorne to help Hutch and Celvano over the lip. He made it a point not to help Case, although Lorne swapped places with the shorter and badly gasping Hutch.

Once they were all on relatively flat ground, Lorne signaled them towards the jumper and they didn't need a command to hurry. Fifty meters from the jumper the water was past their knees. They struggled around the Stargate that was still glowing with an active/open wormhole. Ten meters away and they were wading up to their hips. Alex threw a terrified glance at the edge of the cliff and saw the tidal bulge nearly upon them and water flowing over the top of the mountain like it wasn't there.

They caught up to Ronon at the very end of the Jumper's rear hatch. The ramp had been raised to a horizontal position, about hip high, to keep water from flowing directly into the little craft. Ronon was struggling to lower Sheppard onto the platform, water swirling around his hips and frothing as it rushed and crashed around the bulk of the jumper. Alex splashed over to help him lay Sheppard down, then hopped up to offer Ronon a hand. Together, they dragged the Colonel the rest of the way into the jumper to the waiting hands of the nervous medics.

Lorne, Hutch, Case, and Celvano scrambled aboard a moment later and the hatch began to lift shut, even before Lorne had started to stumble back to the pilot's seat. When the hatch closed with a little pop of air pressure against Alex's ears, it got strangely quiet. Alex had been in the wind and rain for so long, the sounds of breathing and rustling and dripping sounded loud and unnatural. Everything and everyone was wet. The jumper smelled like a locker room.

He plopped down on a rear bench, opposite Case. Hutch and Celvano had themselves planted on either side, watching him with disgusted and freaked out expressions in turn. Case looked pretty out of it. He sat, staring at his boots with his mangled hand shoved under his armpit, the wrap around his leg sodden and slightly pink. He was rocking slowly, back and forth, Alex couldn't tell from pain or psychosis, and he didn't care.

"Get us high enough to avoid that wave, McKay," Lorne gasped on his way towards the cockpit.

"I will, but then we have more wind to worry about," came McKay's tense reply. The scientist was the only person in the place that wasn't dripping.

Alex watched through the window long enough to confirm that they were rising before returning his attention to Sheppard.

The medics had the Colonel sprawled on the floor of the jumper and Ronon was helping them unzip his sopping vest and jacket. Sheppard was moving, moaning a little bit each time he was moved. Water was puddled under him and dripping off in rivulets like Alex's dog used to after a bath. There was a pink tinge to one of the trickles and Alex leaned forward to flip up the bottom of Sheppard's shirt.

"Jesus!" he exclaimed. "Did you see this?"

The medic on Alex's side flicked a glance down, swore and the careful examination became a frantic scramble to yank off Sheppard's sopping clothes. The hole Alex had spotted in the Colonel's side was an inch long, ragged gouge, oozing thick blood. The wet shirts had plastered themselves to the Colonel's side, acting as a fragile seal, but as they were removed, the wound began to flow, spilling more crimson onto the puddles below him.

One medic managed to keep a pressure pad dry enough to slap over the wound while the other probed another hole in Sheppard's opposite shoulder – that one white and puckered. _Damn,_ Alex thought. That meant Sheppard had walked the island, sparred with Case and rolled them both away from the grenade with not only a broken shoulder (obvious from the deep bruising all along Sheppard's collarbone and joint) but also with a bullet in there.

Sheppard grunted and twitched as the medic leaned into the pad on his side. Alex flicked a look at the man's pale face and saw his eyes fly open and his face contort around a yelp.

"Easy, Sheppard," Ronon murmured. The big man, still crouched on the floor at the Colonel's head, leaned against his shoulders to pin him into the jumper floor.

"Where...? Where...?" Sheppard gasped. Ronon answered as if the whole sentence had come out.

"You're in the jumper, still on 404. Case is in custody. He's hurting, but he's alive. We'll be back at Atlantis soon. Beckett will patch you up. You got any more holes in you aside from the two I'm looking at?"

"Two holes. Broken collar bone. Side _really_ hurts," Sheppard managed after a few attempts and several deep breaths between words.

Alex ground his teeth together and spared a furious glare at Case. He hated this. He hated seeing _any_ of his people getting hurt, but there was something especially awful about it being Sheppard. Something especially...scary.

"What caused this injury?" snapped the medic still leaning against the pad on Sheppard's belly.

"Shrapnel," Sheppard whispered and writhed again, trying to curl into the wound.

"Case's gun exploded in his hand. The Colonel was close by." Alex clarified.

"Squib...squib in the barrel. I cleared it. Case loaded dry cartridge. Ka-boom, aaaaah..." Sheppard gasped and writhed harder. Alex and Ronon nodded, the gun's surprising explosion making more sense. But he looked away, unable to watch Sheppard's grim endurance.

There was a moment of quiet activity, the tense silence in the jumper broken only by the sound of sterile medical equipment being torn open and Sheppard's ragged panting under a freshly applied oxygen mask. Aside from the rare low growl when one of the medics moved or poked or prodded him, the man didn't make a sound. Alex knew he'd be yelling his head off if it were him. He scrubbed his face, found his heel bouncing on the floor of the jumper. Why the hell weren't they through the gate already?

"What's our ETA on getting back to Atlantis?" the closest medic snapped, calling into the cockpit. Alex didn't like the tone of urgency in the man's voice.

"We're working on that," was Lorne's reply. Alex bit his lip at the anger in the words, then leaped to his feet to see what was going on for himself. Anything was better than watching them work on Sheppard. It took only a second of looking out the window to figure out what was wrong.

The island was gone.

The jumper hovered over the Stargate that was drowned up to the top chevron that was glowing a bright blue in the steel grey water. The water swirled and churned as it passed around - and through - the active ring. The blue-white light of the wormhole created an eerie glow just below the surface of the swiftly moving water.

"We can't go through?" Alex said, more to himself than anything. He shot a fearful look at Sheppard, writhing on the ground, pinned by the comforting weight of his teammate. He snapped his gaze back to the front when McKay actually answered him, speaking so fast that Alex had to concentrate to catch all the words.

"The stargate was activated automatically, probably by the DHD itself. It's not coincidence that it happened just as the tide was overcoming the mountain. From what little the Ancients left in the database about this planet, they were conducting some kind of experiments with tidal energy. My guess is that the water is meant to flow through the stargate at this point in the tide cycle every two months. There's perhaps monitoring equipment on the other side, or maybe even a turbine that collects the kinetic energy of the water as it is forced through the wormhole to the other side."

"The _point_, however, is that we can't dial out while it's active. The water is keeping the gate open." Lorne's interruption was a growl of frustration.

"How long until it shuts down on its own?" Alex snapped, with another involuntary glance at Sheppard.

"It was activated twenty minutes ago, just after we arrived. It won't shut down on its own for another eighteen minutes."

Lorne cursed at McKay's answer, but Alex got the impression it was more from the helplessness of the situation than from any new information. He stared at the sea below him, the blue glow drifting a bit as Lorne and the jumper's computers fought the wind gusts that still pummeled the surface. McKay went on.

"And that's not all. Once this wormhole shuts down, even if the DHD isn't on some kind of automatic re-dial, we can't go to Atlantis. The second they lower the shield, the tower would be flooded."

"Then we dial some other gate, let the water get a few worms wet when we go through, then turn around and dial Atlantis," Lorne snapped. "We already decided that."

"Yes, but the water will also keep any new wormhole open for another 38 minutes. Once we're through, we'll have to wait again before we can dial Atlantis."

"So you're saying it will be an hour before we can get home?"

"Well, fifty six minutes, to be precise." McKay looked at his watch. "Fifty-five."

"That's too long," came a softer voice at Alex's shoulder. Alex turned to see the second medic entering the cockpit. He leaned close, speaking as if he didn't wish to be overheard. "We believe that the shrapnel in Colonel Sheppard's abdomen has lacerated the Colonel's kidney. We can control the external bleeding, but he is exhibiting symptoms of internal bleeding. He needs surgery immediately or he'll bleed out. An hour is too long."

"I'll...I'll work on it. Maybe there's some way to..." McKay trailed off, sounding pathetic and looking scared before he turned to poke at the console. For some reason it hit Alex just then that McKay was also on Sheppard's team, another friend.

Alex snapped. Rage the likes of which he'd never felt pressurized his head from the inside out and he shoved the medic aside and lunged at Case.

"You _bastard_!" he spat. Alex threw a fist at Case's jaw and the snap of pain through his knuckles was viciously satisfying. Case reeled and threw up his hands, one bloodied and twisted. Hutch and Celvano, a few beats behind in their surprise finally stood up and grabbed Alex by the arms. "You selfish, psychotic son of a bitch. You did this. You fucked us, here, and now the gate's underwater."

Case hid his face behind his arms and began chanting in a low ragged voice, "It's not him, it's not him."

Alex lunged again, but Hutch and Celvano held him back. "He saved your sorry ass from that grenade. He should have let you get shredded."

"Back off, sergeant," Ronon rumbled, still on the floor, "that's an order."

Alex stopped straining, "But sir! He did this. He attacked the Colonel. He shot him. It's his fault we can't get Sheppard home. It's his fault the Colonel is going to die!"

"Sergeant!" This time Ronon's snap sent a shiver down Alex's neck and he jammed his mouth shut. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, then blew out all his air in a fast rush. Hutch's hands slid off his arm when he relaxed and Alex heard him slump heavily back onto the seat. He opened his eyes and faced Ronon, not planning to apologize.

Instead, he found himself looking right into the glittering eyes of Colonel Sheppard. He'd just told a dying man there was no way home.

"Oh, shit. I'm sorry, sir. I'm so sorry."

Alex felt his back snap straight and his face burn with mortification. Sheppard held his gaze, raised an eyebrow. He was breathing fast and there was the tension of incredible pain on his face, but otherwise the man looked almost...amused.

"McKay?" Sheppard croaked at last. Ronon frowned, but waved Dr. McKay to the back. The medics had managed to get a couple of blankets on the floor and around his shoulders, so the Colonel wasn't looking quite as wet and chilled as before, but Alex was disturbed by the man's pale complexion.

"I'm helping fly the jumper. What do you want, Sheppard?" McKay snapped, surprising Alex with his annoyed tone.

"The gate is blocked?" Sheppard spoke one syllable at a time, but there was no doubting that his mind was in the game.

"The water pressure against the active wormhole is keeping the gate open. We won't have another chance to dial for 15 minutes and then any address we do initialize will have the same problem."

Sheppard frowned, "We dial another gate...?"

"And the wormhole will stay active for another thirty-eight minutes. No turning around at the alpha site without a thirty-eight minute wait. Voodoo boy, here, says you can't wait that long." The medic twitched, then thought better of protesting.

"Close it behind us?" Sheppard panted. Alex fidgeted and caught Ronon doing the same. The man was injured. Why were they standing there letting him try to fix the damn problem?

"I just said the water pressure against the event horizon will keep the gate active. I think blood loss is affecting your brain already."

"Extend shield to gate...go home." Sheppard gasped out the words then groaned. He was pressing hard against the bandages on his side, ignoring the swats of the medic who kept trying to stop him. McKay looked stricken at the gesture of pain and his answer came out even more sharp and more rushed.

"What are you talking about? The jumper can't go through the gate with the shield activated. When you came after me at the bottom of the ocean last year you didn't have to gate - Oh!"

McKay broke off and just as abruptly turned to throw himself back in the co-pilot's seat. Alex tilted his head to watch the man start slapping the console with frantic thrusts. When he looked at Ronon for an explanation, he was staring, just as puzzled, at Sheppard.

"What did you say?" Ronon asked.

Sheppard managed a slight smile before he gasped again, then closed his eyes tightly with an expression of excruciating pain and just almost...fear. "Shortcut...home." he whispered.

The medic who had his hand glued to Sheppard's wrist and the bp cuff permanently attached to Sheppard's bicep pumped the bulb with sharp, frantic squeezes.

"Pressure's dropping. He's shocky. Start another IV. I'm going to administer epinephrine and try to get his pressure up." The medic spared a troubled glance at Ronon. "If he just figured out a way to get himself home, you need to do it. Now."

"McKay!" Ronon bellowed.

"I'm on it. I've just about finished the changes to convert the cloak into a shield. Zelenka programmed a few subroutines after the last time so it could be done more quickly if we ever needed to again." McKay was babbling as he rushed back into the rear compartment, shouldered Alex aside to slam open the overhead bin that held the jumpers control crystals. He twiddled for a few moments, then rushed back into the cockpit. Alex followed just for something to do. His shoulders were still tight and only his determined effort to avoid looking at Case kept him from trying to hit him again.

"How will a shield help us?" Alex demanded. Sheppard was back there dying by inches and he needed to know everything that was happening so he could help. So he could fix his mistakes. So he might not have to kill Case if the Colonel died.

"I have the same question," Lorne said, his knuckles white on the controls from the effort of keeping the jumper steady for so long in the hurricane conditions.

"Sheppard and Zelenka figured out how to turn a jumper's cloak into a shield and then extend that shield to create a bubble of air around the jumper under water. It's how they got me off the bottom of the ocean almost a year ago."

"But how -"

"The jumper can't go through the wormhole with its shield up, just like it can't go through with the cloak already engaged, BUT -" McKay paused to tap on the tablet computer in his lap, "we can submerge the jumper right next to the stargate, extend the shield to surround it and walk Sheppard to Atlantis without flooding the gateroom. It won't get the jumper home, but once he's safe, you can take your time via another address and wait out the thirty-eight minutes."

Lorne looked through the cockpit window into the frothing, churning water below.

"Are you sure submerging is a good idea in _that_?"

"You're the pilot. You tell me. If you can't do it, I'll stop right now and we'll sit here and wait for Sheppard's heart to stop from hypovolemic shock." McKay threw a look at Lorne that said 'we don't have a choice' as clearly as if he'd spoken the words.

"You're the doctor, doctor," Lorne muttered, sounding sour. Alex sucked in a fast breath, feeling excited and terrified at the same time.

"OK. The shield is ready. Try to get the jumper within five meters of the stargate but no closer than three. That should keep us out of the initializing wave when we dial Atlantis."

Lorne didn't say anything but the view on the enhanced windshield began to turn away from the stargate and sink. Lorne popped up a smaller window on the HUD that displayed the Stargate slowly rotating back into view - a rear view window! Alex felt himself clenching his fists and tensing every muscle in his body as the little craft fell closer and closer to the frothing surface.

"Brace yourselves, people," Lorne called, his knuckles even whiter on the control sticks and his face even more grim. "It's likely we'll get shoved around a bit before the jumper compensates for underwater travel."

With another nudge, the jumper dipped below the water. There was a lurch as the water caught the craft halfway under and Alex gasped when the stargate lunged at them in the rear-view. Or rather, they were shoved backwards towards the active gate by the fierce current swirling over the mountain. Lorne cursed softly and McKay's hands flew over the co-pilot console. The jumper stopped within inches of the wormhole, then slowly crawled forward to about five meters as McKay had requested. The center of the gate swayed left and right in the rear-view window as Lorne fought to keep them steady. Trails of bubbles streamed past them into the gate, making Alex feel like he was really racing down a green tube at incredible velocity.

"Turning on shield," McKay called. "Put the jumper on the bottom."

"Do you think it will stay put in this current?" Lorne grunted.

"We'll see."

Lorne nudged the jumper down the last meter and there was an ear-grinding scrape as they slid along the rocky bottom for a few inches, then stopped. The stargate glowed weirdly through the water in the rear-view.

"I'm extending the shield."

Alex just shook his head as he watched a bubble extend itself from the jumper and push the water away in an ever-expanding arch. The water still swirled around the bubble, but inside it became strangely calm. Trickles of water dripped down the windshield then began to dry. Alex heard the whine of the jumper's power source rise to an even higher pitch as it spread the shield behind and above them. A minute later, the entire stargate was surrounded in the pocket of air and stood dripping and glowing on the wet rock. Alex grinned with relief - he could see now how this would get Sheppard to Atlantis - but McKay frowned as he stared at the image of the gate.

"Why is it still active?"

"What?" Lorne asked, sagging back into his seat for a deserved moment of rest.

"The stargate. There's no water pressure against the event horizon. It should shut down, but it isn't. Wait a minute!" McKay began tapping furiously. "It's the DHD. I didn't notice it before, but in addition to the water pressure, that funky modified DHD is sending some kind of subspace signal to or through the wormhole."

"What kind of signal?"

"If I knew that, I wouldn't have used the fairly generic term 'some kind of signal'." McKay snapped. "Whatever it is, seems to be keeping the wormhole active. We do something similar when we're doing radio recon."

"Can you block it?"

"Maybe. I'm more worried about what else that DHD does."

"Like?" Lorne just asked the question with a resigned sigh, apparently giving up on understanding McKay the first time about anything.

"Like redialing automatically and keeping the stargate permanently active during the tidal window."

"That would be bad," Alex interjected. Behind him, Ronon and the medics were working on Sheppard with an intensity that was growing more frightening by the second. He wasn't reassured at all when he saw one of them snag the defibrillator and set it next to the Colonel's shoulder. "Can you just blow up the DHD?"

McKay threw him a disgusted look and Alex went apologetic. Just as quickly, the doctor's face went thoughtful. "I'll try jamming the signal first." But the blowing-things up option seemed to remain on the table.

A long, uncomfortable silence fell. Alex paced in the back of the cockpit watching McKay and Sheppard in turn. Ronon leaned over the Colonel and was murmuring to the man constantly. There was no need to hold his shoulders; Sheppard had gone limp.

"So? What!" Lorne blurted finally, about a second before Alex was about to. McKay slumped.

"I've tried jamming and attenuating the shield harmonics to block the signal, but the jumper doesn't carry the right equipment to interfere with subspace. We've got basic transmit and receive and that's about it."

"So we blow it up?" Alex asked, reaching for his C4 pocket as he spoke. He could feel the minutes ticking away from him. He didn't like to wait in ordinary circumstances. This was torture.

"The wormhole is due to collapse in five minutes anyway. Let's see if we just get lucky and can dial out after that."

"Fine. But I'll get the C4 ready just in case."

Alex stomped to the rear compartment and leaned over the medics on the floor to snag the big box of C4 stored in the jumper's overhead netting. Hutch and Celvano were looking at him with curiosity combined with surprise, but he ignored them, pulled the box onto his lap and sat on the bench.

Five minutes never felt so long. Alex readied six bricks of C4 and detonators in the first three minutes. The last two he had nothing to do but stare at Sheppard who had gone pale as a ghost and was starting to thrash a little, his eyes open, but confused and unaware. Case had gone still, too. His hand was still under his arm and he was also staring at Sheppard, moving his lips around words only he could hear in his fucked-up head. Alex's leg started to thump against the floor again.

"Time!" McKay called at last. Alex jumped up to resume his pacing in the cockpit. McKay was watching the HUD carefully. In the rear-view, the stargate finally sputtered and the blue puddle evaporated from the inside out. "Thirty-eight minutes, gate has collapsed. Beginning dialing sequence to At - No! No, no, no, no, no!"

McKay slammed his hands into the jumper's DHD, but the lights on the stargate had already begun to chase and spin, flicking on the chevrons one by one. The initializing wave reached towards the very back of the jumper before McKay had managed to poke the 5th symbol and he slammed his fist into the console.

"Dammit! It re-dialed. And...yes, there's the damn signal. It's going to keep the gate open for another thirty-eight minutes at least."

"I've got the C4. I'll do it. I'll blow the DHD." Alex spoke calmly. Here was something he could do, finally. He couldn't program jumpers or fly them or jam subspace signals. But he could blow shit up. McKay looked panicked for a moment, then resigned.

"OK. I'll see if I can extend the shield as far as the DHD. These cloaking generators were never designed to extend in this way. I'll watch the generators closely while you're out there, but if I tell you to fall back, do it! You don't want to be near the shield if it collapses abruptly."

"I'll end up really wet again," Alex said by way of agreement.

"You'll end up fried."

"Oh."

"Go get your C4 ready and lower the rear hatch. Place the explosives at the base of that modified pedestal. You want to take out that extra equipment, not the DHD's power source. "

"Wait, what happens if we take out the DHD's power source?" Lorne asked suddenly.

"Oh, now they want to know the consequences of blowing things up. It's all fun and games until someone mentions consequences."

"McKay!"

"If we destroy the DHD's power source, we can't dial anywhere. We learned that much from the fiasco on M1B-129. But I think it will be OK. A DHD is generally pretty sturdy, and this one has obviously been reinforced to withstand regular intervals underwater. Just...use enough to damage the pedestal, not destroy it. You'll have the force of the water helping you."

"Water?" Alex asked.

"You don't want that C4 going off inside the shield, do you?"

"Oh. Of course not." Alex started to turn to leave, then stopped, drew himself into a loose, at-ease. "Permission to blow some shit up, Major?"

Lorne rolled his eyes and jabbed his thumb at the back door.

"Have fun, sergeant."

"Yes, sir."

The hatch was already dropping as Alex scooped up four of the bricks he'd readied and four detonators. Case was watching him as he walked out into the shield bubble and Alex paused, threw a last look at Hutch over his shoulder.

"Keep an eye on him," he snarled then walked out of the jumper.

It was totally weird. The shield held the water away from the jumper in a long, high cylinder. Alex could see the water rushing past and the shield itself flickered constantly, going from nearly invisible to sheets of opaque energy. The whine of the jumper's engines (or whatever) was even louder in the strange quiet of the bubble. His ears popped and he swallowed hard to unpop them.

"Hurry up, sergeant," McKay's voice sounded strained through the radio speaker in his pocket. It suddenly hit Alex that he was still soaking wet, if not quite dripping any more. How long had it been since he was dry? "The generators are being taxed more than is technically safe. You need to get to the DHD and fall back behind the gate as quickly as you can."

"Got it."

Alex ran. There was only a few inches between the edge of the stargate and the flickering shield. Alex sucked in his gut, scooted sideways past the ring then dashed to the DHD. The dial home device was at the very far end of the tube-bubble and it kept shrinking and contracting around the blocky contraption with disturbing sparks.

Alex knelt at the base of the additional casing, waited until the shield was hovering at the far edge and slapped a brick of C4 against the bottom edge, jammed in the radio-controlled detonator and pulled the plastic pin. He got a second brick on the opposite corner when the shield suddenly collapsed several feet, sending him scrambling back towards the stargate.

It stopped within inches of his toes, then slowly stretched again to expose the dripping-again DHD.

"Sergeant! The generators are experiencing some wide oscillations in stability. Watch for fluctuations at the edge." McKay apparently had only the one volume, even for radio communication: loud.

"No kidding," Alex gasped, his heart still thumping a noisy drumbeat in his ears.

The shield was wavering too wildly for comfort, so Alex slapped on one last brick and called it good. It wouldn't demolish the DHD, but McKay had said only to disable it. He pocketed the last brick and pivoted to dash back to the jumper. If this worked, they just might get the Colonel home after all. He might be able to live with himself tomorrow. He pulled the remote trigger out of his pocket then shimmied sideways to scootch around the stargate.

He was just turning to jog the rest of the way when an inhuman roar froze him to the rock. Ronon's scream of fury was followed by several blasts from the Satedan's energy weapon. The red bolts stabbed out of the open hatch of the jumper and splatted into the event horizon. An instant later, Case came barreling down the ramp, clutching something in his arms. He stumbled at the bottom, fell, curled himself around a black case in his hands, then rolled back to his feet.

Alex almost literally saw red. His M9 was in his hand, the C4 trigger forgotten in the other.

"Case! Get down on the ground or I swear to God I'll shoot you in the head! Get down!"

Case whipped around, limped towards the edge of the shield near the opposite edge of the stargate and lifted the box over his head as if to throw it through the event horizon to god knows where. Ronon and Hutch appeared at the top of the ramp, their weapons also aimed at Case, their expressions equally furious. A sudden terror joined the rage.

"The Colonel! What did he do to the Colonel?"

Ronon just snarled, but Hutch answered with a panic in his voice Alex had never heard the light-hearted and cool as ice corporal show before.

"The Colonel's in v-fib. His heart's wacking out. Case broke Celvano's jaw and stole the defibrillator."

That explained why Case was still standing and Ronon hadn't just made a smoking hole in his guts.

"It's not Sheppard!" Case spoke for the first time since they'd apprehended him. A shiver crawled down Alex's spine, even as he was lining up his shot on Case's forehead. Case didn't sound insane, or panicked. He sounded...sure. He looked almost cocky. "You have to listen to me. Something is possessing Colonel Sheppard's body. That thing in there isn't him. It's faking. You don't need _this,_" he shook the defibrillator and Alex's own heart almost stopped, "because it's got super human healing powers. If you just wait, you'll see. It won't die because it's not really hurt."

For an instant, the tiniest flash of doubt crossed Alex's mind. Crazier things had happened on Atlantis in the 9 months he'd been there. Case sounded so sure, he spoke so reasonably, not like a crazy psycho. He flicked a glance into the jumper and all doubt fled. The medics were hovered over Sheppard, one compressing the Colonel's chest in CPR, the other pumping air into his lungs with a respiratory bulb. Both looked absolutely terrified.

Lorne and McKay were standing behind them in the cockpit doorway, looking as frustrated and helpless as Alex felt, unwilling to disturb the medics to climb past. But Lorne's own M9 was drawn and raised. This had to end, now. The Colonel needed that bag.

Alex started walking. Case looked surprised, then wary. The defibrillator dipped, then Case clutched it more tightly, lifted it higher. It was his only bargaining chip.

"Stay back. I'll smash it."

"You said the Colonel didn't need it," Alex retorted, still walking. Case looked confused.

"That's not Sheppard," he said at last.

Alex passed directly in front of the jumper hatch and lifted his hand slightly. He saw McKay jump, then spin back into the cockpit.

"Exactly. So if the Colonel doesn't need the defibrillator, I can shoot you in the head and not care a damn if it smashes."

"But if I'm right, then you won't shoot me in the head."

"Maybe I'll shoot you just because I want to," Alex growled.

Case stiffened, his face went angry. "You're one of them, too. You've always defended him. You're just as much a traitor as he is!"

"Not as big a traitor as you, you asshole." Alex had made it to within two meters of Case. He raised his hand so Case could see the remote trigger. "I'll take that now."

Alex pushed the button.

There was a muffled whump from behind the stargate followed by an earsplitting pressure against their ears. The shield around them flickered wildly and contracted inward with a sparking lurch. Case jerked taking an involuntary step away from the sizzling barrier when it tapped him on the back. Alex lunged and with a single smooth motion, he slammed the side of his foot into Case's supporting leg, grabbed his arm and threw Case to the ground in what was probably Alex's best foot sweep ever.

The defibrillator was a heavy piece of equipment in a canvas cover. As Case fell, Alex snatched for the box, pulling it to his chest. He fell to his knees to cushion the catch, then rolled to his feet. Case cursed in anger but a single bolt from Ronon's gun silenced him. Alex didn't spare the time to look back. He put his chin down and bolted for the back of the jumper.

He leaped the side of the ramp and slammed the box down next to the closest medic.

"I'll take over CPR, you get that thing ready," Hutch snapped, hard on Alex's heels.

Alex got out of the way as the medic scrambled to open the box and ready the paddles. Hutch began pumping the Colonel's chest and it was a few compressions before Alex caught up to himself and dashed into the cockpit. McKay and Lorne were back in their seats.

"You got my hint. Did it work?" Alex gasped.

"We'll see!" McKay replied, sounding grim. "When I saw you were going to blow the DHD, I shrunk the shield and the C4 detonated in the water. The wormhole collapsed, so we know you damaged the transmitter. I'm dialing now to see if the power to the gate is still online."

McKay began to punch in symbols at the DHD and Alex felt a rush of anxiety. He grabbed the back of the co-pilot's chair and stared out the rear hatch at the stargate, willing it to activate, terrified it wouldn't. The whine and thump of the defibrillator drifted up from the floor of the jumper. He looked down in time to see Sheppard's torso heave off the floor with the involuntary reaction. Alex ripped his gaze away trying to concentrate only on the gate. One thing at a time...

When the first chevron chased around the dripping ring and came to life with a bright blue glow, Alex closed his eyes, breathing deeply to keep himself from shuddering in relief.

"Chevron one is locked. We've got power. I'll radio the control room as soon as the wormhole engages. Is Sheppard ready to go through?"

McKay's voice sounded unsure and scared when he said the last. Alex took another deep breath and forced himself to look back at the Colonel. Hutch was leaning back and the medic was listening through a stethoscope to the Colonel's chest.

"He's got a pulse. He's breathing on his own. Get the oxygen back on him, full open. What's the status on the gate?" The medic was barking orders to his companion who was just as crisply obeying them.

Alex looked out and saw the crystal sparkles of the initializing wave reach towards him. "The gate's working. We can go through when the Colonel's ready to move."

The relief on the medic's face was almost frightening. Alex saw the man's hands tremble when he reached for the soggy blanket to wrap back around Sheppard's pale torso. The bandage around his side was stained through with blood, and the bruise on his shoulder had deepened with the water and the chill to an unhealthy bluish purple.

"We should try to keep his legs elevated when we move him, but I'll be damned if I'm going to be picky. Anything is better than laying in this swamp."

There was a sudden bustle as everyone in the jumper started to move all at once. Alex squatted at Sheppard's head, watched his chest rise and fall a few times and his breath mist the oxygen mask over his nose.

"I'm sorry, sir. I should have seen it sooner. You have to hang in there because you can't let Case win this one. He was right about one thing, and one thing only - Atlantis needs you."

Alex murmured the words and felt a sting in his eyes. He blinked and looked around hastily to make sure no one had noticed. Celvano was watching him from where he was lying on a bench,

blood streaming down his face from a bloody nose and a wicked bright red welt along his jaw. He caught Alex's eye.

"I let the bastard clock me," he said without opening his jaw. Alex understood the man's fury.

"Case had fooled us all, too many times," he said. "Speaking of...where is he?" Celvano shrugged and turned away as if he didn't ever care knowing.

Alex wandered down the ramp into the bubble and got his answer. Ronon was standing over the crumpled, unconscious Case with his foot on the bastard's chest and his gun aimed at his face. His chest was rising and falling and there were no smoking holes, so -

"You didn't kill him?" Alex asked. It wasn't a funny question. Ronon's jaw worked and he shoved his foot down a little harder.

"No. Sheppard wouldn't have wanted me to." Ronon suddenly jerked his chin up and held Alex in a fierce glare. "I wanted to."

"So did I," Alex answered, just as fervent. "Still do, as a matter of fact."

Ronon grunted but he looked pleased. "That was a nice trick with the C4. Good foot sweep. I think he broke his arm when he fell." Ronon looked even more pleased by the injury.

Alex nodded, but he was feeling very sober. "Case tripped a guy the first day we were on Atlantis as new recruits. Broke his arm, too. Funny way things come full circle."

"Funny."

There was a flutter of activity and Alex saw Hutch and the two medics holding Sheppard carefully between them. Celvano followed, carrying the oxygen pump and the IV bags that twisted their way into Sheppard.

"I gotta go help," he muttered awkwardly, then jogged away to pull the oxygen out of Celvano's hands.

_A broken circle, _he thought as they finally walked through the stargate. Sheppard was moaning softly as the movement no doubt jostled injuries. Case had seen weakness in Sheppard's humanity. He'd idolized the man and then snapped when he'd proven himself imperfect.

But Alex saw things differently. He'd seen Sheppard protect a man who had just shot him. He'd seen him out think McKay from the floor of a sopping jumper while bleeding out. He didn't see a hero compromised by an enemy, he saw a normal guy struggling through incredible difficulties, just like everyone else, every day.

When they reached the other side, Alex promptly shuddered so hard his teeth rattled together as the cooler air of the city surrounded him. A swarm of medics, led by Beckett himself descended upon Sheppard, looking like ants drawn to an apple core.

"Pulse and BP are stable. Let's move him to pre-op. Snap to it, people," Beckett bellowed, reassuring Alex with his confident control. Alex watched them take the Colonel away down the hall and stood, dripping in the middle of the gate room suddenly feeling lost.

Of course, there was a lot about the Colonel that wasn't ordinary. There was that thing about how he'd taken command of Atlantis for a year after being cut off from Earth. And that other thing about taking out two hive ships alone in a single dart. And how he walked away from three wraith feedings with only a story to show for it.

He suddenly grinned and jogged over to help Celvano who was shuffling along with another medic, also on his way to the infirmary. Case, still unconscious from Ronon's stunner, was being hauled onto a gurney for his own trip there. Alex made it a point to ignore him except to make sure that Ronon had assigned MPs to keep him in custody. He was in Ronon's custody, it seemed, which was even better.

"Did I tell you about the time we saw Sheppard fall over a cliff and not only live to tell the tale but climb back to the top and trick Case into firing a plugged up pistol?"

Celvano glared at him. "You sound like Case," he complained between clenched teeth.

"Yeah. Sorry."

He couldn't wait to tell the rest of the squad about that one.


	7. Chapter 7

"Kolya!"

John screamed at the pain in his chest his eyes seeing nothing but blinding light, the heat from the TV lights warm against his skin, hot on his face. His chest burned.

"John, you are safe. You are home," a voice soothed and John felt a cool touch on his hot forehead.

John concentrated on the voice, checking his frantic breath to control the pain.

"Who…?" he gasped. He was lost in the memory of Kolya's prison and torture, but he desperately wanted to go where the voice was leading him.

"It's Teyla, John. You're in the infirmary. Carson is here, Rodney is here."

"And it's about time you stopped scaring us with the waking up screaming routine."

"Rodney! Ronon fell asleep, but he's here. You're safe, John."

"Teyla…"

John relaxed all of a sudden, the fear washing out of him in a rush. He blinked and some of the glare softened into individual blobs and colors. He wanted to feel awake, but there was a heaviness over his whole body and a fluffiness between his ears that probably meant Carson was cooking up the good stuff. He fought to remember something important.

"Everyone…home?" he asked. There was a chuff of exasperation alongside a chuckle of warmth.

"Do you even remember what happened, Sheppard?"

"I remember that you're Rodney McKay," John answered, pleased he was up to making a small joke. Rodney snorted and John turned his head, now able to identify the blob that was Rodney by voice.

"I didn't think so. Ronon and the medics walked you home after I managed to extend the shields to keep the gateroom from flooding. Lorne and I made it back about an hour later. We gated to a space gate and watched water from 404 turn to ice fog until the gate closed again. It was really pretty, I have to admit."

"Water…" John remembered water. In fact, he remembered nothing but water. Water rising, creeping up on him like a living thing. A giant wave swallowing up a whole island.

"Case!" he exclaimed, memory rushing back and pushing his heart into a lopsided thump that brought back the painful pressure.

"Woah, there, lad. None of that." The white blob that John finally recognized as Carson shoved closer and John felt the cool press of a stethoscope against his chest. "Ye promised to keep him calm, Rodney."

"He asked! What did I do?"

"Ye can bloody well stop reminding him of the nutter who put him lying in my care, is what."

"But -"

"Sgt. Case is in custody. Dr. Heightmeyer is looking after him." That voice was Teyla and John turned his head again to find her blob, again letting her words soothe him. Case was in custody. Everyone was home. Mission accomplished...sort of. He braced himself against a growing collection of messages his body was sending him, all them "urgent" and all of them "uncomfortable".

"He thought I…was…someone else," John explained, for some reason feeling the need to explain his current weak state.

"Yes," said the Rodney blob, "He still does. He's been screaming down there for three days to anyone who'll stand still that you're not Sheppard. That Sheppard's been compromised. That he did it to save Atlantis from you."

"I'm me," John whispered.

"Of course you are, son." _Carson_. "And you need your rest. We've managed to patch you up again, but I'd not be expecting to run any marathons any time soon."

"Rats," John said with enough sarcasm that the doctor chuckled.

"Just rest up and you'll be fit enough to join the Daedalus on the gate seeding mission into the void."

John frowned. "That's a month away, doc."

"Aye. It's a bit rushed, I'll grant you. You behave, though, and I think you'll make it."

John squinted until he forced his eyes to focus more clearly on the room around him. Whatever was making his head fuzzy kept trying to convince him that two and three versions of every object was better than one, but with an effort, he managed to see that Carson was deadly serious.

"It's just a busted shoulder," John tried.

"And a lacerated kidney. You were running on empty from internal bleeding when they brought you here. We had quite a few scary moments in surgery. If you had been anywhere but Atlantis..." Carson trailed off and John swallowed hard. Teyla's hand found his arm - the one that wasn't tied tightly across his chest - and squeezed.

"I'll be fine," he said, trying to put in a cocky tone that he didn't feel.

"Aye. That you will."

Carson's confident tone finally reassured him. He closed his eyes, giving up on trying to keep the room from swimming. He might have dozed off because when he jerked them open again, the room was dimmer and Rodney was the only one nearby.

"Thought...you were tired...of waiting for me to wake up," John yawned. It was easier to see when the lights weren't so bright. Rodney startled, looking up from the tablet computer he was poking at.

"Oh, well, I'm due for my daily checkup in a few minutes anyway so I told Teyla and Ronon to go get some sleep and that I would make sure you kept waking up satisfactorily."

"Checkup?"

Rodney's tone went utterly snide. "Yes. For the gunshot wound you inflicted a week ago. These kinds of serious injuries don't just heal ovenight, you know."

"Rodney..." John groaned. It came out something like Raaaawdneeeeey and he must have sounded pretty pathetic because, for the first time, Rodney looked chagrined.

"I suppose that was in bad taste considering you've got a hole in you as well."

"Two holes."

"Yes. We were all properly concerned for your well being. Again. Those sergeants you had with you have practically been hovering. Ronon had to threaten one of them with latrine duty to get him to go take a nap."

"Sergeants?"

"Weiss, I think was his name. It's kindof cute the way your little minions look up to you. Too bad they don't know you like I do. I could tell some stories that would knock the polish off your golden image."

John shook his head. "Those minions are incredibly capable and highly trained fighting machines. I was no match for Case when it came down to it." He looked away, scrubbed at his face. "It's been a crappy few months. Case is nuts but...maybe he has a point. Maybe I'm not up to...the big job." John's voice went soft.

There was a long silence and for a moment, he was certain that Rodney was agreeing with him. He looked back and almost jumped when McKay was standing right at the edge of the bed madly poking at a pearly palm scanner.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm scanning you for anomalies to figure out if maybe you really have been replaced by someone else."

"McKay!"

Rodney chuffed, rolled his eyes. "We've all had a few crappy months. But they would have been a whole lot _crappier_ if someone else had been watching our backs around here. Sergeant Psycho can't have known the whole story if he was accusing you of doing a bad job."

"Thanks," John whispered. He was pretty surprised by the encouragement that was just almost...nice coming from the usually careful narcissist. Rodney just shook his scanner a little, shrugged and put it back in his pocket.

"Nope, you're you. And we're lucky to have you after the trouble you managed." He sat down, began poking at his tablet again. "But that doesn't mean you're off the hook for shooting me."

John groaned so loudly that the duty nurse rushed over to check on him. Feeling suddenly well cared for, he played up the attention quite a bit (the nurse was pretty cute, actually) and flirted until Rodney was squirming and turning red.

He'd had a crappy few months and had another one looming in front of him. People would come and go, sometimes painfully. But he still had Atlantis. He did everything he did for her, he realized. Atlantis was home. Atlantis was his mission. It was almost frightening what he would do. What he'd already done to get home to her. That's what Case had missed. He'd missed the big picture - the _mission_. It wasn't about defeating enemies, it was about surviving one crappy day and getting to go home before you had to face the next one.

"I'm sorry I shot you," John whispered, once the nurse had left and he was drifting towards sleep again.

Rodney looked up, grinned. "I'm sorry you got shot," he replied.

"Let's say - no one gets shot for a whole month. I'll make it an order."

"That sounds really great except for one thing."

"What's that?"

"You do know where we live? You can't even gate to a tropical island to remove weather equipment without a gunfight. It would take an intervention of biblical levels to prevent Pegasus from throwing something at us for that long. The Ancients themselves would have to return, and it's not like they're really going to show up and say 'thanks for keeping the floors clean, we'd like the keys to Atlantis back, now'."

John snorted. "You're probably right. But I'm going to give it a try."

"Go ahead."

"Done."

"Five seconds and so far, so good."

"Rodney?"

"What?"

"Shut up."

* * *

Alex followed Dr. Heightmeyer into the infirmary, feeling more tense every step closer to the Colonel's bed they got. It had been a week since Case had flipped. Alex just wanted to get on with his life. Once Sheppard had turned the corner and Beckett had said he'd recover for sure, Alex had been trying hard to shove the whole thing into the far corner of his mind.

"Good afternoon, Colonel Sheppard. Are you still feeling up to going over my report?" Heightmeyer greeted Sheppard warmly, sounding calm and cheerful as always. Sheppard grinned - a bit self consciously, Alex thought - and tugged at his shirt that, no doubt, kept riding up. Alex hated hospital wear, too.

"Sure thing, doc." Sheppard deftly moved a tray of empty plates off his lap and onto the side table with the hand that wasn't held tightly across his chest by a white sling. He was wearing red scrubs and sat on top of the blankets, propped up by pillows and the tilt of the mattress. He crossed his legs at the ankles and offered his hand to Heightmeyer for an awkward, lefty shake.

There was something about seeing the commander of Atlantis lounging in bare feet and pajamas that just seemed odd to Alex. _Like the man wears his boots to bed_, he thought, chastising himself. Sheppard had only just started getting back on his feet after surgery and a tough few days of recovery.

There was a rumor going around that he'd crawled so close to the edge that Beckett had called for his friends and set up a death watch. Alex thought that was pretty funny. He'd _been _there. Sheppard's team and sometimes even Dr. Weir and Major Lorne sat with him until he started waking and resting regularly, but out of friendship rather than fear. They had let Alex sit vigil with them, Ronon, especially, understanding his need to see the thing through to the end. Beckett had been concerned and aggressive in his care, but never pessimistic. Alex supposed there was a bit of truth in the rumor - Sheppard had been pretty sick if not given up on. Even now, though he looked scrubbed and fluffed, there was a stiff efficiency to his motions that belied pain held in check.

Heightmeyer tugged a chair over and sat down with her clip board on her lap. Alex didn't feel like getting that comfortable, so he locked his hands behind his back and spread his legs to stand in an easy at-ease just behind her right shoulder. Sheppard gave him an amused nod of approval, then turned his attention to the shrink.

"What is your evaluation of Sergeant Case, Kate?"

"In a nutshell, Sgt. Andrew Case is suffering from multiple psychological issues including Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, delusion and perhaps mild schizophrenia."

Sheppard shook his head. He looked almost angry. "That's not supposed to happen, doc. He's not supposed to be here."

"I assume you are referring to the standard psychological checks all personnel are subject to before serving."

"Exactly. And especially before serving here. The SGC is supposed to repeat all exams before they're assigned to Atlantis."

"Case's record shows a history of exemplary conduct and performance. He was hand picked for the Stargate program and then personally requested transfer to Atlantis almost as soon as we reinstated contact with Earth. His previous psychology evaluations made note of a tendency towards a temper and slight issues with anger management, but there were no scores that set off any red flags. Back then."

Sheppard raised an eyebrow, and Alex looked at the doctor, too.

"Back then?"

Heightmeyer sighed. "In retrospect, there are small, tiny things that - when read in the current context - reveal tendencies that make sense."

"He had a problem with anger management, alright," Alex quipped, then reddened, not sure he was free to speak, but Heightmeyer just agreed with a nod.

"I believe that Andrew formed an...appreciation for you, Colonel Sheppard, that became obsessive. I don't know if obsessive love is an issue for him in all his relationships or just this one, but it wouldn't surprise me."

Sheppard had gone red in the face and looked like a man trying very hard to stay casual. "Obsessive, ahem. Obsessive love?"

"In Andrew's case, the term refers to a kind of extreme hero worship rather than physical or sexual love."

"Oh." Sheppard looked only a little relieved. "We didn't have a, um, relationship."

"No, the relationship Andrew imagined was one of hero commander and dutiful warrior subordinate and existed only within his own mind. There have been some examples of stalkers who became violent against celebrities they idolized. And in many of those cases, the perpetrator was convinced they had a relationship with the victim. The difference here, of course, is that you did have a _working_ relationship and were in several combat situations together."

"I remember him being an eager ass kisser, but he got the job done. He was on the promotion list for next quarter. If I got suspicious of every frostbite that showed up trying to impress senior command around here, I'd lose half my unit. I need to know why Case _snapped._"

Alex was glad Sheppard asked. He'd heard the psychobabble. It still didn't make sense - to a sane person.

"Andrew was able to function almost normally within the context of his daily life, even with the fantasy-obsession active in his mind. The fantasy itself allowed for normal interaction between a Marine sergeant and the commanding officer of his base. But when you contradicted the image Andrew had created of you, he was forced to either accept a new definition of his hero, or create another explanation for why you had...disappointed him."

"You let the wraith go!" Alex exclaimed suddenly. "When you let that wraith from Kolya's planet go, Case flipped out. He wasn't the same after that."

"Andrew couldn't reconcile the action he found abominable with the hero he idolized. His mind couldn't handle what he perceived as a fatal flaw and so it created a more acceptable scenario that fit the circumstances."

"He decided I was an imposter." Sheppard flopped against his pillows.

"And as an imposter, Andrew could justify his actions against you."

Sheppard scrubbed his eyes with his free hand. "I'd figured out the what. Didn't know why he was so convinced I was something else. He told you all this?"

Heightmeyer shook her head. "No. He is still firmly clinging to his delusion. I'm recommending immediate medical discharge and commitment to a mental health facility. What I have pieced together has mostly come from Sgt. Weiss, here, and some other of Andrew's colleagues."

"I'm sorry, sir," Alex said formally. "I missed the signs. I knew Case was a hot head, arrogant, piece of work with a weird fascination for you. I just never...thought..."

"He'd put a gun to my head."

"Andrew is an extremely intelligent, competent soldier, gentlemen. In many ways, he fooled the entire SGC psychology department and truly was fooling even himself. There's no shame in this. Psychology is no exact science. Even in my own experience, I've never seen someone function at such a high level with such disastrous results."

"Great. All the bases in all the world, uh, universe, and we're the lucky ones who get the brilliant psychotic."

"Andrew is a very damaged young man. He will never serve again. He may never live without observation again."

The way Heightmeyer said it, Alex just almost felt sorry for the guy for a split second. Sheppard, too, looked a little sympathetic.

"I'll sign the release forms."

"The SGC is expecting Sgt. Case next week. He'll travel with the monthly reports and other personnel who are returning through the stargate."

"Thanks, doc. Would you get this report to Lorne so he can update the base and write us up some suggestions for handling any um...future scenarios that may occur?"

"I can give you a list of some symptoms that may indicate more than your usual 'I'm serving with THE Colonel John Sheppard' excitement."

Sheppard flushed deep red again and looked genuinely annoyed.

"It doesn't work that way, Kate. These guys and gals are the best and brightest. They come here expecting a tough job and work their butts off for me. I'm nothing special. It's Atlantis that's special."

Heightmeyer gave him one of those looks - the kind that said she was intrigued by the psychology you were displaying - and Sheppard grew even more stony faced. Alex himself could have told her that Sheppard had just contradicted himself in that very sentence. A commander as self-deprecating as the Colonel was a rare and admirable thing. Well...rare in Alex's limited experience, he admitted privately.

"I think you underestimate your influence on your command, Colonel," Heightmeyer said at last.

"Well, my influence is going to include a lot more knocking heads if everyone thinks I'm such a nice guy."

"Oh, we don't think that, sir." Alex blurted, then felt his own face go hot. Sheppard glared, then - apparently unused to remaining gruff - he grinned.

"Well, that's good to hear. Thanks Kate."

Heightmeyer stood up and clasped hands with Sheppard again. "You're welcome. I'll finish this report and hand it to Major Lorne. You'll also get my comments within the week."

Alex waited til she had passed, then turned to leave.

"Hey, sarge," Sheppard called him back with a wave. He was sagging more heavily into his pillows and his eyes had gone drowsy. That unease at seeing his commander so...vulnerable flooded Alex again and he stepped to the bedside, fighting to keep from fidgeting.

"Yes, sir?"

"I heard you pushed Lorne to gear up a rescue team and that you took the shot that knocked Case's gun out of his hand. I just wanted to say thanks."

"Um...you're welcome sir." Alex didn't know what else to add.

"That was a hell of a shot. What made you think you could hit his gun in that wind? I couldn't have done it."

"Um. I couldn't either. I missed. I was aiming for his...heart, sir." Sheppard's face went very still. Alex rushed on, suddenly feeling like he needed to explain himself. "We were too far away and the storm was too bad to talk Case down. I knew he was capable of violence and couldn't let him...kill you, sir. When I saw him lean into his aim, I had to stop him. If I hadn't missed, you wouldn't have almost been strangled and hit by shrapnel." The last came out bitter.

"I'm no sniper, sergeant, but that was a pretty wide miss." Sheppard sounded, flat, cold.

Alex flushed even deeper red. "There was a lot of wind, sir," he snapped, then instantly regretted the excuse. Sheppard's glare bored into his head, and then he nodded.

"It's hell to have to make the choice you did, sergeant. For what it's worth, I think you made the right one."

Alex felt a sting in his eyes that he blinked away in furious defiance. How did he know? He'd wanted to shoot Case. He'd lined his shot up on Case's heart thinking nothing but what hours of training had drilled into him. And when he'd pulled the trigger, he'd let his finger jerk on the trigger. He'd let the wind push the muzzle around too many degrees.

"He could have killed you," Alex repeated, and this time the shudder of horror he'd buried for the past week nudged at his shoulders.

Sheppard shrugged, then pulled a face when the motion tweaked his immobilized shoulder. "You held him back, gave him a chance to reconsider. Twice, if the stories around here are accurate. You clipped him in the leg, too. It's like Heightmeyer said - there's no shame to be felt here."

Alex wanted to believe that, but he couldn't think of anything to say so Sheppard cocked his head, "Do you know the difference between responsibility _for_ and responsibility _to_?"

"Sir?"

"You were not responsible _for_ Case's actions. No one can be responsible for someone else's free will. But we all have a responsibility _to _each other. Especially, here. Especially doing what we do."

"I had a responsibility to you, sir. And I blew it." It was the guilt he'd been trying to run from for a week.

"You also have a responsibility to your peers, and that includes Case, not just me. You had a shitty choice, sergeant. You tried to find a path in the middle. It worked out alright." Sheppard hissed and shifted his shoulders again. "Mostly alright," he added with a rueful grin. Alex returned it.

"Thanks, sir," he said, trying to accept Sheppard's wisdom. It suddenly hit him that one of the most infamous and _mostly_ confirmed rumors about Sheppard was that he'd killed Colonel Sumner his first few days on Atlantis. He felt his heart race, then decided it was worth the risk to speak the question that was knocking at his mind.

"Um, sir, was that anything like what happened with Colonel Sumner?"

Sheppard's jaw locked and he went stiff as a plaster cast. There was a horrible drawn out silence when Alex would have given anything in the universe to take back the question. At last Sheppard jerked his head sideways.

"No. Except the part about responsibility."

That was clearly all Alex was going to get. He decided to retreat before he put his foot in his mouth any further.

"Ok, sir. Um, I hope you feel better soon. It's not the same down there with out you."

The Colonel blew out a fast breath and relaxed, his easy smile returning although Alex thought his eyes remained distant.

"Dismissed, sergeant. Oh, hey - tell the guys that the rumor about how I planted the squib in the barrel and tricked Case into firing my weapon is bullshit."

"Really...?" Alex bit his lip. He'd started that rumor. Given what else he'd seen the Colonel do that day, it had seemed...plausible."

"Yeah. It was just damn bad luck. The gun was underwater for ten to fifteen minutes, at least. I was lucky I didn't blow my own hand off. I'd rather the story be used as a cautionary tale."

"Ok, sir." Alex was a little disappointed, and then he almost laughed at himself out loud for thinking like Case.

"Great. But...um, the one about seducing alien princesses to win that trade for jumpers and drones? _Totally_ true. Every word."

Sheppard's expression was pure mischief. He waggled his eyebrows as Alex stared, trying to decide if he was serious, and Alex busted up.

"Got it, sir."

"Good."

"Good-bye."

Alex left the infirmary with a spring in his step. He was with Hutch: He hoped he was as cool as Sheppard when he was that old, too.

"Princesses?" he muttered to himself. He knew the rumor Sheppard was referring to. And he still had the same opinion as the first time he'd heard it: "Puh-leeese."

_Author's Note:  
The prompt for this story was: "The Water is Rising" with lots of action/adventure, which was really fun to work with. Thank you for the cool kickoff! I also worked in a side request for someone who wanted an obsession story. The two worked well together as one prompt was a setting prompt, the other a plot prompt. The rest of the story fought me every step of the way, so I apologize if there are still some rough edges (and missing commas)._

I stopped counting, but at one point I was up to around 6K of discarded or rewritten scenes. Alex had no idea how hard I had to work to keep him alive. Case really wanted to kill him off, several times. It may not have been the right choice, but I wanted him to make it, if only so Shep could replace one admirer with another. Thanks to everyone who made it this far, ha! 


End file.
